Behind the Cat's Mask
by Jan Lee
Summary: NOVEL. Yamato's particular brand of hell shows up blonde, blue-eyed, and oozing femininity. Someone please help his poor soul. Yama-centric. Yama/Ino; Yama/Kakas. An epic-level romance. COMPLETE.
1. A Reintroduction

**Summary: **[NOVEL] Yamato's particular brand of hell shows up blonde, blue-eyed, and oozing femininity. Someone please help his poor soul. Yama-centric. Yama/Ino; Yama/Kakas. An epic-level romance, updated Saturdays weekly.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Naruto.

**Rating: M, **for language, yaoi, sex, and crackedness.

**PLEASE READ!****A/N: **First things first, I'm writing some Kakashi/Yamato action. So, for those of you uncomfortable with yaoi, you may want to avert your eyes.

Secondly, I've never written yaoi…except for now because it works in the story and with my perception of Yamato and who he is. Having said that, most of the story _is_ Yamato/Ino.

Hatsuburi is the official name (or so I've been told by a knowledgeable friend) for Yamato's face-guard thingy.

I hope you enjoy.

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**~ Behind the Cat's Mask ~**

**Chapter One: ****A Reintroduction**

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He didn't see why Kakashi couldn't do this. Yamato ran a hand over his face, sighing. He remembered his meeting with Lady Hokage crisply. She had summoned him to her office late in the afternoon yesterday, the stalwart desk clear of papers, the vista of Konoha spread out behind her through the galleria windows, and the floor glossy with fresh polish. It'd been a while since he'd been invited into her office.

"I'm putting Naruto under Kakashi's full supervision and am giving you a new assignment." Her eyes had flashed. He'd seriously thought he'd be back in his ANBU Black Ops uniform within the hour, but she'd continued, "I'm putting you in charge of training and preparing Yamanaka Ino for full service in the ANBU. You begin her training tomorrow, 4 AM sharp at the ANBU training grounds. Shizune!"

Shizune, who'd he'd always been a little sweet on, entered the office. She'd smiled, friendly, as she handed him a manila envelope labeled 'Yamanaka Ino' in bold, red letters. Lady Hokage had explained, "That's her file. Review it and draft up a training schedule by six tonight. Questions?"

Yes. Many. "I don't mean to be impertinent, milady, but I'm better suited for monitoring and protecting Naruto. Why not have Hatake Kakashi train her?" He had known she hadn't been pleased when her brows had furrowed. "Or better yet, Morino Ibiki? He's head of the Interrogation Squad, and surely with her being of the Yamanaka clan, his skills would best suit her style of jutsu."

She had smirked. "I've picked you for a very specific reason," she'd started slowly. "You're the only member of the ANBU that will keep your eyes in your head and a civil tongue in your mouth when she tests you. And she will," Lady Hokage had added. "You will keep her on track without becoming emotionally compromised by her…shall we say…feminine wiles."

He'd understood what she'd been artfully saying. He was a man who kept to himself, who was polite, and who didn't womanize. She didn't want anyone sexually involved with Yamanaka Ino, and he was first pick because he was well-known for his nonexistent affairs with women…and men. In fact, Yamato was pretty sure everyone thought he was antisocial outside of his team and the miniscule interactions he had with the human race at the bar or grocery store.

His early morning reverie dissipated when his ears picked up low, female murmurs. A giggle, from more than one- -and he recognized Sakura's voice. Lady Hokage had not said anything about Sakura being there…but he recalled Sakura talking about Ino in a friendly-rival capacity, so maybe Sakura was there for moral support?

The two girls materialized in the dim pool of light cast by the overhead lamps outside the entrance to the ANBU training grounds…and he suddenly understood Lady Hokage's warning. Yamanaka Ino had not made any impression on him in the past, but the siren that walked alongside Sakura certainly impressed upon him a woman who could sweet-talk any woman or man into doing her bidding; a woman who could turn from gentle and submissive to a throat-slashing demon in a blink of an eye. He saw he'd have to tread carefully with this one.

As they approached, Ino said something, too low for him to hear, but he did see Sakura's eyes flick to him and the disbelief that twisted her features. Sakura whapped Ino's arm, as Ino covered her mouth with the back of her hand to laugh. They came to a stop in front of him.

"Good morning, Captain Yamato," Sakura greeted, smiling. The light cast shadows over her face. "Captain, this is Ino. Ino, this is Captain Yamato. You should remember each other from before."

"Yes." He nodded. "But I've heard a lot about you since then."

Ino's mouth curved- -not friendly, like Shizune's and not sweetly, like Sakura's- -but wickedly. A predator's grin of sharp fangs before jumping to the kill. Her smile put him on high alert. "All bad, I hope. Master."

Yikes. Buyer beware. He remained a cool neutral, turning his attention back to Sakura. "Thank you for reintroducing us. We'll be getting started, if you want to say goodbye."

Sakura and Ino embraced, and he heard Sakura whisper something to Ino, who giggled, and then they released.

"Goodbye. And good luck!" Sakura said, stepping off into the darkness with a small wave.

Ino returned the wave, and he waited as she watched Sakura disappear into the early morning night. They were alone. She faced him, flicking the long ponytail over her shoulder. "So, Master. Where do we start?"

Being addressed as Master felt…odd, different, when he'd been forever labeled as 'captain' or 'commander'. "Let's enter the training grounds," he replied, gesturing to the open chain-link gate.

He'd had Anko, the usual ANBU Groundskeeper, unlock the heavy lock and links across the single entrance; the training grounds were the Forest of Death, if it had been watered with steroids. Only ANBU knew where it was in Konoha and only ANBU knew how to get in. The aura of the place seemed to give her pause. Ino looked up and down the tall fence, into the deep, black shadows beyond the safety of the entrance.

"I never knew this was here," she said, reaching out to run her fingers on the hanging chains. "Is this gate jutsu-based as well?"

That she could pick up residual chakra without using jutsu perked up Yamato. "Yes," he answered, "there are some sealing jutsu on the entrance. Can you tell what kind of sealing was used?"

"No…but this chakra signature feels like"- -her mouth quirked in the corner- -"…Anko's. And yours when you dispelled the seal."

When would she have had time, intimately, to memorize Anko's chakra signature? But he left the question unasked. "You are correct again. She's in charge of sealing the entrances after each usage, but I can do it as well."

"I see," she answered. She tilted her face to him and he felt, more than saw, her eyes intent on him. "You weren't expecting much of me, were you?"

He couldn't be sure if she was guessing or if she knew. "I expected what had been recorded on your file."

"Hm," she responded. To his surprise, she grasped his wrist and lifted his arm. Her hand opened his, and as she held his hand palm-up, she squinted in the light at it. Scrutinizing, he supposed, when one finger traced the long creases and the curves between his fingers. Her touch alternately tickled and stilled his breathing. Before he could pull away or even admonish her, she closed his fingers and patted his fist. "Did it hurt?"

"I'm sorry?"

"When the kunai cut your hand. Did it hurt?"

Now he pulled from her grasp, recalling the old kunai wound across his palm. It had been so long ago. That quick slice of steel cutting the skin. He felt it afresh. The promise binding him…and breaking him. Those pain-filled eyes he could never heal.

"Master?" Ino's voice startled him. "What's wrong?"

"I'm…nothing, Ino. We've wasted enough time. Let's get started." He gestured at her to enter the training ground, but she ignored it. When the wings of panic fluttered in his chest, he understood that he needed to redirect her attention. "You wanted to know what we're doing?"

Her chin notched up an inch. "Master has a secret," she said, in a smugness that sickened him. "You know, secret-finding's my specialty."

How'd she done that? The balance of power had shifted, and Yamato had to scramble to shift it back. She wanted a rise out of him, some indication that she'd hit a sore point with him. "And we're here to work on areas that aren't your specialty. Enter the training grounds, recruit."

Her brows jumped, but the tone of his voice and his exertion of rank seemed to quell any rebellion stirring inside her. The balance had shifted back, temporarily. Too much spunk, in that one, he thought. Like Naruto, but with attitude and a…well, and female assets. Then, as he walked behind her through the front gates of the training grounds, he finally realized why she'd taken his hand. The file had not mentioned her astuteness with physical features, and she'd wanted to prove her point. Tread carefully, he told himself. Careful.

She continued forward in the darkness for several more minutes, when she turned to him. "Is this far enough?"

"I think it's a good start," he answered, drawing up beside her. "Are you ready?"

"Tell me what we're doing."

Yamato understood her impatience. "I'm carrying an important scroll that you need to secure. Or, land a hit on me, if you can."

"That's it?" He felt her examining him, and when her finger traced the inner-edge of his hatsuburi, along the sensitive skin of his face, he couldn't help but track the progress of that light touch, from over his eye, down the side of his cheek. His throat tightened. "What're your dinner plans tonight, Master?"

The sound of her voice had lowered, pinging off something buried so deep inside that Yamato instantly felt threatened. And angry. She laughed, again, in her throat, and said, "Get it? Land a hit on you? I just hit on you?"

He moved, snapping his hand to her arm and twisting around, bringing her elbow with him up and away from her back. It was a cruel thing he did, disjointing her shoulder from its socket, but she had to be shown her place. She was the student; he, the master. He kept a tight grip on her arm, listening to the breath hissing through her teeth. She had not cried out.

"Understand this, Ino. I am not your plaything. I am your master. I am to be cruel, aggressive, unrelenting. I have no heart. The sooner you learn that," he released her arm and she crumpled to the ground, "the longer you survive. Come find me when you've finished healing yourself. You have one full day to secure the scroll."

He left her on the forest floor, curled around herself in agony. When he perched on a nearby branch, close enough to maintain a visual without her seeing him, she'd already popped her shoulder back in place. He shut down his emotions, the anger and the tiny nibble of guilt, so he could concentrate on his own mission.

His objective was to observe her at first. In the field, she'd have to locate the target. Since she'd already revealed her ability to detect days-old chakra signatures, his fairly fresh chakra trail would be easy for her to pick up. He'd set up a false trail then had suppressed his chakra signature so he could circle around to watch her without being detected. There she went, as he predicted, along the false trail. Easy, almost…too easy.

He followed, a shadow among shadows. Years of honing high awareness of his surroundings warned him that anything was amiss. Nothing about Ino's demeanor had changed as she tracked his chakra signature, but his perception flung his attention sideways to a tiny movement on his right. And so he shot chakra to the soles of his feet, narrowly avoiding a slew of shiruken. Her approach was direct, succinct. Almost impatient.

He reciprocated the attack, forming and sending off a wood clone to distract her while he found a decent hiding spot. The fight escalated from there, each participating as the cat, each participating as the mouse. She, too, was relentless, using traps, a vast and complex array of jutsu, which was all what he'd seen on her dossier, and what he could only describe as heavy application of ingenuity. Not bad. He could work with her skill.

But after twenty-four hours of constant, aggressive battle, the toll on her had become too high. Yamato, used to the hard pace, knew her chakra was running out, she was exhausted, and she was at the end of her rope. That she'd lasted this long seemed to impress upon him her desire to do great things and survive them all.

Regardless of her will, Yamato could now visibly see her exhaustion. In the next day's fading light, her skin gleamed with sweat, mottled with dirt, and her hair fell in wisps about her face. Shoulders rose and fell, mouth slack, as she struggled for oxygen. Dark smudged under her eyes. Her movements had become increasingly sluggish. It was his job to teach her that exhaustion was an annoyance to be ignored. He would not go easy on her.

Forming the signs in rapid succession, he grew from the ground twisting wooden beams, spiraling them towards her. She was quick, but she could only dodge for so long before one smacked her right in the chest. She flew back from the impact, crashing into the ground at high speed. As she skidded, dust rose, obscuring his view of her. The sound of a body flopping along stopped. Silence descended. Dust cleared. Yamato first saw the pale hair. Then he noticed how she remained slumped in a pile of limbs.

He hesitated. She'd played opossum before and had tricked him into approaching within her range, close enough that she'd slipped a hand in his flak jacket for the scroll. To be sure, he twisted some roots around her, holding her fast. She didn't struggle or attempt any jutsu. That's when he got concerned.

Oh, shit, was his first thought, I've killed one of Lady Hokage's favorites. Jogging over to her, Yamato allowed himself to imagine his punishment, but when he knelt and touched a couple fingers to the damp skin at her throat, he felt a strong pulse. He'd seen her fake unconsciousness, and this wasn't fake, it was very real, and she was spent, not dead. He breathed out his relief and released the wood technique used to hold her in place. Carefully, he slipped his arms under her, feeling a sense of responsibility for her, if only because if he left her in the forest, vulnerable, Lady Hokage would roll his head. He'd take her home, since his house was close by, to let her recover and regain her strength.

She was all limp and malleable in his arms, unconscious, and didn't stir even as he set her down to reseal the gate to the ANBU training grounds. He lifted her again and carried her the minor distance through the trees to his self-made home. He went in through the sliding doors in the back since his living room was there and placed Ino on the couch. Her hair dripped like liquid white-gold over the armrest.

Gently, Yamato unzipped her flak jacket, leaning her forward and manipulating her arms through the arm holes. He tossed it over the back of the couch then reached over to pick apart the knots in her boot laces. Her toenails matched her fingernails- -electric blue. Tiny hands. Ankles he could encircle with one hand. This was what Lady Hokage considered ANBU material? Slender thighs, narrow hips, and a swell of breasts? Nothing more than a pretty girl that weighed as much as a bird.

He covered her with a blanket, tucking the edges in and settled back into an armchair to write his initial report, listing her displayed skill-set and jutsu, and of course, her projected improvement in weaker areas. To give her credit, she'd gone toe-to-toe with him, who'd graduated Academy at age six and trained for ANBU from that age until his twelfth birthday. And there was his…DNA. The odds had been stacked against her, but, then, they always were and forever would be.

A shock of internal static-electricity drew his attention- -someone had stepped on his land-sensors and that same someone landed with a nearly inaudible _taptap _on his back porch. The sliding doors were still open, and Yamato didn't need to see who it was.

"Hello, Kakashi," he called.

"Yo." Kakashi crossed the floor to stand over Ino's prone form. He rubbed the back of his neck. "_This_ is Yamanaka Ino? She's certainly easier on the eyes now."

"Hm."

"How'd she do?"

Yamato finished the report and folded it. He'd send it to Lady Hokage immediately- -she'd want a full update. "Not too bad, considering."

Kakashi stepped from the couch to Yamato's side, where he reached down to rest a hand on his shoulder. Yamato felt the delicious heat and weight of that hand to his bones. His breath hitched.

"How're you?" Kakashi asked. "You look beat."

He nodded. "I need to get this report mailed and then take her home. I don't want her getting any ideas."

"Hm. What kind of ideas would she get?"

"Let's just say Lady Hokage warned me not to get emotionally compromised by Ino's quote-unquote 'feminine wiles'." Yamato sighed as he recalled twenty-four hours ago. "She's already hit on me." He considered a moment the palm-reading. "Twice."

Kakashi's hand squeezed gently. "Doesn't waste time, does she. May I see the report?"

Yamato handed it to Kakashi and waited in silence when he sat on the arm of the chair to read the document. Every once in awhile, Kakashi's head would bob. The proximity was killing Yamato, the hair on his arms prickling, saturated with Kakashi's presence. The crumpling of paper indicated Kakashi's progress on the report. Yamato took it back, refolded, from Kakashi; their hands brushed, and it felt like a current of electricity had jumped through their skin.

Kakashi twisted to lean across the arms of the chair, ducking his head, fingers on his free hand tugging down the cloth covering his mouth. Yamato inhaled with sharp anticipation as Kakashi's mouth pressed against his. The heat burned him, his blood surging in a temperature response to the soft lips of the man who was his oldest friend and lover. Kakashi's tongue broke the seam of his lips, and Yamato relaxed, melted in bliss when the kiss deepened, allowing Kakashi to take what he wanted. Kakashi could _always _take what he wanted.

Yamato's brain ceased to be concerned with such trivial matters as breathing and seeing, and instead chose to concentrate on the hard-beating heart, thumping away under his ribs and the rough calluses of Kakashi's hand through the fabric at his neck. He gasped, a little, when Kakashi's teeth dragged across his bottom lip and was left reeling when Kakashi pulled away. The sudden absence and crash of emotion stunned Yamato into silence.

Kakashi covered his mouth and hopped off the armrest. "You really are beat. You've never let down your guard so easily," he added, moving over to the couch and Ino. To Yamato's surprise, he flicked off the blanket and slipped his arms underneath her body. "I'll take care of the new recruit. You can mail that report in the morning. Take a shower. Get some sleep."

And before Yamato could utter a goodbye, Kakashi had stepped through the door and disappeared amid the tree branches into the twilight, Ino draped in his arms. Yamato got up and closed the door, wondering if Kakashi would come back tonight to finish what he'd started, but reason suggested he would not. When Yamato turned back to the living room, he noticed Ino's flak jacket and boots had been left.

No worries. He'd drop them off at Ino's apartment when he went to mail the report. He'd slip in, slip out, and she would never be the wiser. Tossing the folded report to the end-table, Yamato moved through the hall in the back-corner of the living room, up the stairs to the master suite. He had no idea why he'd created a house so spacious, with the entire top floor dedicated to a single bedroom and bathroom, and then with three bedrooms on the bottom floor, plus the open kitchen, dining room, and living room areas.

As the house's skeleton formed many years ago, he'd known it would be too big and too lonely. He should've rented a place downtown, but the Third Hokage had insisted on giving him the land.

_Please, accept_, the old man had said, pleading. _Please, accept. It's only right_, he'd said as Yamato signed the papers, never able to tell the Third no. _You've already lost and given so much, it's good for you to receive._

Yamato broke from the melancholy. Whenever he was tired, long repressed memories seemed to take advantage. The weather was good sleeping weather, and so he opened the windows upstairs to allow in a cross breeze. His home nestled between a thick grove of maple trees, a forest, yet not a forest, separated from the busy Konoha bustle, and the quiet that greeted him outside was one he savored. Yes. He liked quiet. He liked _undisturbed._

Yet, as he stepped into the bathroom for his shower, he had a nagging thought that his life would no longer be undisturbed and quiet, but would be thrown into chaos. Chaos with electric blue nails and shining white-gold hair, penetrating blue eyes and forward attitude. Chaos named Yamanaka Ino.

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**A/N: **I certainly hope my dear readers enjoy the new direction. As always, let me know thoughts, comments, or concerns. Next Saturday, expect _Chapter Two: The Breakfast of Champions_. Until then! =)


	2. The Breakfast of Champions

**A/N: **Welcome back, friends, for another chapter of "Behind the Cat's Mask". I hope you enjoy!

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**Chapter Two: The Breakfast of Champions**

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Alarm bells screeched all around. The nameless child (Number Thirty-six, the _s_ in 'six' hissed between teeth with long, roping tongue) didn't move, too terrified to do anything except lie there, cold sweat soaking his skin. _Be still. Be nothing, be invisible, be like stone._ The sedation used to keep him compliant had long since worn off. But he'd remained. Dead, deep silence had been sickening. Lab tables spanned to his left and right, thirty on one side of the room, mirrored by thirty on the opposite side. Unmoving forms curled with tubes hanging like vines from arms and mouths.

Thirty-six shivered when he heard yelling over the RRINT-RRINT-RRINT of the alarms. His heart beat in time with the blaring noise. So cold. Icy. Frozen. _Be nothing. Be like stone._

Pounding on the door. More yelling. A muted explosion; wood splintering- -a familiar sound, at least. Fast, light footsteps from the entrance of the room.

"Lord Hokage! Come immediately!"

The alarms cut off. Silence thudded all around. More light, fast footsteps. "What is- -oh, dear God." A very long pause. "Check for pulses."

Running. Thirty-six stayed motionless. Quiet as stone. He could escape. He was small and quick. They would not be expecting him to be alive. Different voices began calling out a series of, "Negative!" Footsteps approached; Thirty-six opened an eye, saw a man with a bulky, plated helmet and a grim, wizened face. The man leaned over Thirty-five, stroked the dark hair and touched a couple fingers to Thirty-five's throat. "Negative."

Thirty-six held his breath, waited. _Like stone, stone, hard stone, unbreakable stone, unfeeling stone. _He felt the man's approach, counted the footsteps, started building chakra for the few jutsu techniques he knew, but the man paused.

"It's okay," the man said, lowly, and Thirty-six heard the soothing tone meant for his ears, "we're not going to hurt you. We're going to take you away from here. You'll be free."

The more the man spoke, the more Thirty-six believed him, relaxing, the fear seeping away enough for Thirty-six to stop feigning death and open his eyes.

"Hello, there. I'm Lord Hokage." Lord Hokage reached out a kindly hand, patting Thirty-six's head. "You're safe now."

Just as Thirty-six smiled in relief, finally believing the words Lord Hokage spoke, a change in atmosphere occurred. A sharp drop in temperature. Lord Hokage's face blanched, twisted. He reeled back, screaming, tearing the skin on his face. Sickened, horrified, Thirty-six stopped breathing- -_be still, don't move, be like stone_- -watched as the doughy skin sloughed free and the screams turned into cackling as Orochimaru's yellow-slit eyes emerged, along with a thick, albino tail curling out and around as Thirty-six crabbed backwards on the table, but the dry, scaled skin compressed him, holding him, venomous fangs flashing out to Thirty-six's throat, and he couldn't move…couldn't even scream…

Yamato woke when he hit the floor hard. The sheets had tangled around his arms and legs. A heavy weight had dropped on his chest. He relaxed back, trying to calm his panting, his racing heart, suppressing the long-staved grief. Steadying himself took longer than he thought possible after so many years of the same nightmare, of the same feeling. Vaguely, he felt nauseous, but he remembered he hadn't eaten and was probably dehydrated from Ino's training. And when he checked his digital clock and calendar, he saw he'd been dead asleep for two days and that it was six in the morning.

He stood, and belatedly, he realized something was different in his house. His nose detected coffee. Bacon. Bread. What the hell…? He dressed quickly and hustled downstairs, stopping short before entering the living room. On the other side of the living room was the open dining room which was part of the kitchen. In the kitchen, he caught sight of pale hair and the green of a Konoha flak jacket. Ino.

Son of a bitch, what was she doing here? Bristling, he strode over the hardwood floor with the intent of throwing her out of his house because she should not be here and this was exactly the type of thing that would get him in trouble with Lady Hokage. And how had he not felt her approach? The shock he'd hardwired into his brain from the land-sensors was enough to wake him from deep sleep. He'd made sure of it!

Halfway through the dining room, she turned, and the grin she flashed him withered away all his intent. "Master, good morning! I hope you don't mind, but I thought we'd have breakfast before training today." She held out a cup of coffee, which he took from her automatically. He stared at her, mute. Her grin faded. "Are you okay? I thought I heard a noise upstairs."

"It was nothing. I got tangled up in the sheets and tripped," he lied. He licked his lips before continuing. "You shouldn't be here."

"I'm sorry for sneaking in, but I needed my shoes and my flak jacket. I had to confront Master Kakashi to get the address from him. He was reluctant for some reason."

"That's not what I mean. You can't be here…with me."

Ino's eyes narrowed and as he'd predicted, her mood shifted in a nanosecond. "Is that your personal opinion or orders?" She turned from him to stir the eggs on the stove-top and adjust the spitting bacon strips. "Lady Hokage warned you away from me, didn't she."

Again, he couldn't tell if she was guessing or if she knew. "It's never good for a master and student to…fraternize."

She rapped the wooden spoon sharply on the edge of the pan. She'd shoved her shirt sleeves up to her elbows. "And breakfast constitutes as fraternization."

"It's too familiar. ANBU should not be familiar. We're detached, professional. Even more the relationship between a master and student."

He felt like he was explaining this all wrong; her agitation was palpable and their discussion was turning into a full-out argument. He'd wanted to physically remove her from the premises, and right now, he couldn't understand what had prevented him from doing it in the first place.

"Do you hear the bullshit that's falling out of your mouth?" Ino gazed at him over her shoulder, her eyes sparking with anger. "It's the familiarity that makes us fight harder to protect one another."

"It's the familiarity that kills us. As ANBU, we're expendable. We let one death in our ranks affect us, we're all dead."

He expected a furious outburst, but she set aside the wooden spoon. Silence except for the cooking food. Her arms relaxed at her sides. He watched her profile, waiting for her response. She closed her eyes to inhale slowly and release the breath through her mouth. Collecting herself. Suppressing. When her eyes opened and locked with his, he could see the sky extending forever and his stomach jumped as though he was falling from a great height. He did not like the feeling, and furthermore, he had the vague notion he was familiar with those eyes.

"Master," she started, and her lips concisely formed the words, "I'm making you breakfast because I admire you and want to thank you for helping me. I know that when I hit on you before it was inappropriate and made you uncomfortable. This is not flirting. This is me appreciating you. Will you please accept?"

Please, accept. It is good for you to receive. The Third's own words echoed from his memories. He couldn't say no. "Yes, of course."

Suddenly, she smoothed the tops of his shoulders with warm, gentle hands. "Master. Master," and unbelievably, he saw her eyes brimming with tears, "you're sorrowful. What makes you so sad?"

He had no answer for her because the instant he felt the weight of that age-old grief, he bricked it off, mortaring it deep in the caverns of his heart where it belonged. It had no place near the surface. He was left feeling annoyed that Ino could read him so easily, and he plucked her hands from his shoulders. Again with the touching. Temptation to break a bone was there, to cause pain as punishment, but he could wait to discipline her when they started training.

"It's not important," he told her and stepped away, needing the space, needing something else to do than stand there verbally engaged with her. He went to the sink, setting aside the coffee, and opened the cabinet underneath for a watering can. "I'm surprised you're up and around."

He heard the appraisal in her silence. A wooden spoon rapped. Then, "Do you mean this soon after our first session or this early in the morning?"

"This soon after our first session," he clarified as he hit the tap to fill the watering can. "I've seen recruits unable to move for at least a week afterwards."

"Were you one of those recruits?" She giggled. "Perhaps you were stiff as a board?"

He smirked, averting his face to hide his amusement and managed a wry, "Very funny."

The watering can had filled, so he turned off the tap and left to water the various vegetation growing in the corners and stands in the house. By nature, Yamato didn't feel like an animal person- -dogs were Kakashi's preference, and Yamato wore the cat mask, but that didn't mean he wanted a thousand of them roaming the house- -so he'd thought a good substitute had been plants. Quiet, green, independent plants. He knew full well that plants really didn't constitute as pets, but he'd given them secret names anyway.

"Master Kakashi doesn't kid you about your particular brand of jutsu?" Ino asked, continuing their lapsed thread of conversation, when he stepped back into the kitchen. "He seems the type to rib others. Orders up!"

Ino had two plates balanced in her hands, laden with bacon, eggs, and toast, and set them on the dining room table. He had replaced the watering can under the sink and had retrieved his coffee mug. She'd already taken a seat, waiting for him.

"He usually keeps his comments to himself," Yamato answered. He sat. "But he'll occasionally slip in a tease." When he sipped the coffee, it had cooled to a drinkable temperature, and he winced with its potency. He'd be buzzing with caffeine within the half-hour. "But Naruto and Sakura are more apt to voice their ridiculous commentary. Sai is quieter than Kakashi."

"How's he doing?" She was fiddling with the eggs and toast on her plate, dumping the eggs onto the toast. "I haven't seen him in awhile and I keep forgetting to ask Sakura about him."

"Eh. Improving, I suppose. Being around Naruto has that effect." Normally Yamato was not a breakfast person, but he found himself consuming his food and enjoying it, plus the chatting. "He's much, much better at starting conversations. Now he asks about Naruto's penis once every fifth or so conversation."

She laughed and reached over to squeeze his hand that he'd rested on the table. The squeeze was quick. Then she dropped her hand to her lap. "I bet that makes things lots less awkward, hunh?"

Yamato's brain had zeroed in on her touch, almost as if she had dipped her fingers inside his mind and shifted some thoughts around. He wasn't quite sure how he wanted to respond to it. Her prior touch had been geared to comfort him; what had that hand-squeeze meant? A test? An unconscious gesture?

"…is that he can be a real sweetie sometimes," she said, biting into her eggs-laden toast.

He realized he'd spaced out as she'd continued speaking, and to cover his tracks, he nodded and grunted noncommittally as he drank his coffee. He'd finished his eggs and worked his way through the bacon and toast.

"So what's the plan for today, Master?"

His intention was to start her on wielding a katana, which would be more difficult than her usual tanto, and rest her chakra system before starting up an intense curriculum of sealing, paralysis, and other necessary jutsu techniques.

"We're starting with katana technique," he told her, "and I'll be alternating your training so as not to strain any one part of you."

Her mouth turned up in a smirk that made Yamato entirely too uncomfortable. He thought she'd say something sly like, 'You can strain _anything_ of mine,' coupled with a feisty purr, but she responded, "If you can dish it out, I can take it."

"You're not the first trainee ever to say that." He stabbed one last piece of bacon, and then after a moment's pause, "And not the first to regret saying those words, either."

"So I've heard. I know ANBU training's no walk in the park. Present company excluded." She stood, her plate in one hand, and held out the other one for his as he stalled over her witticism. "Your plate? I'll do the dishes and then we can get going. I've already notified Anko to unlock the front gate of the training grounds for today, so we should be able to get in by the time I'm finished."

Yamato drained the last of his coffee, standing to the side as he watched Ino turn on the tap, find the dish soap, and seem at home in his kitchen, where not even _he _was at home. After washing a few dishes, Ino cursed and lifted her hands from the water. White suds coated her fingers and wrists.

"Master, will you roll my sleeves up? They're falling down!"

He hesitated as paranoia gabbled at him that she was definitely manipulating him into touching her. A significant percentage of him tensed with nervousness.

Ino gasped, shaking her arm. Speckles of suds flicked off. "Hurry! Hurry!"

At her plea, he wrapped a hand around her delicate wrist and slid her sleeve past her elbow with a single stroke. When time hung in balance for that moment, Yamato recognized the mistake too late. His fingers picked up her pulse; his ears listened to her breathing. In an effort to avoid lingering, he repeated with the other sleeve, and quickly backed off, hating that he noticed she'd changed the color of her nail polish to Naruto-orange.

"Thanks. I don't like getting my sleeves wet." She smiled and went back to scrubbing the dishes. Time had resumed. "Did you want me to put them into the rack to dry?"

"That'd be fine," he said and escaped to the living room before something _else _cropped up.

Heart pulsed in his throat. Tight muscles ached across his back. Had she manipulated him? He couldn't be sure. On the end-table, Yamato noticed the folded report, and thankful for seeing a task, created a wood clone to deliver it to Lady Hokage. He opened the sliding doors to the back yard and took the morning air full in the face. His home felt too enclosed with Yamanaka Ino under its roof. Yamato desperately needed the space that the outdoors afforded him from her.

How could he keep Ino at arm's reach and train her at the same time? Eventually, he'd have to engage her in melee combat, mold her fingers to the correct signs for important seals, and perhaps bandage her wounds. All were necessary actions as her master. He couldn't avoid contact with her infinitely.

"You got quiet all of a sudden," she said beside him. He hadn't heard her walk across the floor, and the hairs on his arms rippled. "You look…concerned."

How did she do that? He was sure his face had been neutral. "Are you finished in the kitchen, then?"

"I am."

"Let's go. We've got a lot to do today."

If she had any comments, she didn't voice them. They dashed through the trees to the ANBU training grounds, where the gate had been unlocked for them and Yamato dispelled his previous sealing jutsu. In they went. Even during the daytime, the forest reeked of immediate danger and hidden lethality. They came to a stop somewhat further in the forest than they'd started the last time.

"Ino, give me your hand." That she did immediately and without question pleased him. He closed his hand around hers, steeling himself against self-loathing. "Hold still."

Without anymore hesitation, he snapped two of her slim fingers as if they were twigs. A strangled, surprised cry of pain.

He said, "I warned you that treating me as a plaything would result in punishment. You may think my warning only applies on the training ground, but I'm your master no matter where we are. Do you understand?"

Such fine bones in her fingers. He rolled a third one between his own fingers, threatening it. She nodded her head vigorously. "Good. Set and tape those fingers, but you are not to use chakra to heal. That pain will serve as a reminder of your lesson."

She did so. Her silence pricked a bit at his conscience, but he knew he had to be cruel to be kind. Would she understand how necessary it was for him to be her worst enemy? He shouldn't have worried. She took the lesson without bitterness because when she'd finished taping the fingers, she'd tilted her pain-pale face to him.

"You said we'd start with katana technique, Master?" she said. Her eyes were eager, regardless of any soreness from her fingers. "Where're the katanas to practice with?"

Yamato flipped a few signs, growing three thin, wooden beams from the ground, forming them with his chakra so that they became exact replicas of ANBU-issued katanas. He gestured to one and while she grabbed the hilt, he created another wood clone as a practice dummy. The clone plucked the second katana from the ground and stood facing Ino.

"I know you've mastered the basics, so we'll focus on more complex techniques." He gripped smooth wooden hilt of the third katana. "I'll demonstrate with the clone. Then you can practice. Let's start."

Not much time had passed before Yamato found himself refreshed with Ino's quick advancement with the katana techniques. She operated at a high level of intellect- -certainly not an aloof genius like Kakashi, but at a level that Yamato could anticipate and keep pace with. Unlike Naruto, who had to overwork to compensate for his lack of basic comprehension, Ino was able to rapidly incorporate and utilize the strategies Yamato showed her. She was much like Sakura that way, though he'd never had to rigorously train Sakura.

He could press Ino harder and faster, hit her over and over and over until she shook from the strain of getting to her feet; when she shed her flak jacket and long-sleeved shirt, he saw her skin patched over with black and blue and red, swollen welts, and she never complained or shied away from his sharp reprimands to do better, be quicker, and watch that guard! When the forest became too dark to see her properly, he dispelled the wood clone.

"That's enough for today, I think," he told her, checking over his shoulder. He thought he heard the rustle of leaves. That they'd spent even two days in this place unscathed by flora and fauna was a miracle. "We'll pick up again tomorrow morning, same time?"

Ino didn't respond. When he looked over to her, she'd slumped over to her knees, the katana stuck in the ground, her hands gripping the hilt for support. "Yes, Master." He watched her arms wobble, shaking, as she shifted to get back to her feet. Her knees hovered a couple inches off the ground, in agonizing slowness, then her whole body gave out and she flopped over.

Bad, he thought as he stood over her. Very bad. He'd done so well today, staying in his own personal bubble and out of arm's reach of her. Carrying her would violate both those boundaries. Camping out would have to do. Yamato clapped his hands together, the charge of chakra sparking through his system, and built the house around them. The house was dark and a little _too _big for their needs, but Yamato opened up a hole in the middle of the floor and built up a fire.

He had to catch Anko before she locked and resealed the entrance to the training grounds, to let her know he and Ino needed an extra day, and when he rounded the fire, he neared too close to Ino, curled on her side. She weakly caught his foot as he stepped and didn't quite trip him up.

"Where're…where are you going?" Exhaustion slurred her words. "You're not…?"

Yamato knelt and pried her hand from his boot. It was the one with the broken fingers. "I'll be back. I'm going to the entrance to the training grounds. Get some sleep. You'll be safe here."

"Hm," she said. Her eyes were shut. "That's good."

No, that was _not _good. In fact, this whole situation was so completely _not_ good, Yamato knew he'd be up the entire night on the look-out for any funny business from Miss Yamanaka. She was perfectly capable of funny business in her sleep; experiences dealing with sleep-fighting Naruto and Inuzuka Kiba had shown him what people were capable of during REM cycle. Spending a night alone, _together _with her was the last possible scenario Yamato wanted to be involved in. It was going to be a very long night.

Particularly when he arrived at the entrance and found the doors chained tight and sealed from the outside.

Shit.

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**A/N: **That concludes another chapter! As always, please leave any comments, questions, or concerns you have, as I love speaking with reviewers. Expect the next chapter, _Too Close for Comfort, _on Sept. 24th. See you then. =)


	3. Too Close for Comfort

**A/N: **Surprise! Early posting. I had a rough week at work, so putting this up for all of you makes me feel better. Thank you to all my lurkers and faithful readers for showing this story much love. I hope you enjoy this next chapter as much as I did writing it.

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**Chapter Three: Too Close for Comfort**

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Bright light in his eyes yanked Yamato from slumber. As his mind stirred, checking on his general personal space, a warning buzz sounded in the back of his head. Something was off. The air was cool. He could tell because his front was chilled, but his back…his back felt warm, heated.

He flicked open his eyes, cringed from the morning sun slanting through the window, and realized an arm had snaked under his armpit, over his ribcage. The hand of this arm clenched his flak jacket. He saw a couple of bandaged fingers. Oh, shit. Then he felt (and heard) Ino breathing near his ear and her legs shifted- -she'd wedged her knees in the backs of _his _knees.

On the occasions that Yamato spent the night with Kakashi, he'd woken up in the morning much in the same position. He _liked _spooning. Usually spooning led to soft caresses and kissing, and so it was no surprise that at this moment, his body decided to interpret Ino's curves plastered against his back as a good time to react to former experience. Sheer will alone did not dissuade the morning wood tightening his pants and so he resorted to artfully disentangling himself from her clutches and scooting away.

See? _See?_ That's exactly why he'd stayed as far from her as possible last night. He'd even tried keeping awake, suspicious of any sleep-activity her subconscious might dole out, but when she hadn't moved a muscle for hours, he must've nodded off. Dammit- -he must be losing his edge. He couldn't be sure. He couldn't be sure if she'd found him in her sleep or if she'd waited for him to relax his guard and consciously, deliberately, moved in. And if he wasn't sure, how would he punish her for it?

Yamato dropped his head back on the wall. He felt flustered. Tense. Eyes scratchy from too little sleep. He scrubbed his face with his hands in an attempt to wake up.

"Good morning, Master." A yawn interrupted Ino's greeting. "Oh…I feel stiff."

He watched her stretch, unable to tear away his gaze; her back arching, arms flung up, joints cracking. When her breasts strained against the fabric of her flak jacket, Yamato snapped out of it, deciding _now _would be an excellent time to stand and find some space that wasn't encroached by Ino.

"Ino," he said, calling her attention to him, "I'm going to take care of some personal business. I'll be back a few minutes."

She laughed. "You can say you're off to piss in the woods. I don't mind."

"There is such a thing as courtesy," he replied, opening the back door and hopping off the step. He gave her a meaningful look. "Stay here."

"Yes, Master," she said as he wove through tall grass to find some privacy.

Ino didn't _seem _to be up to anything unusual. So far she hadn't been obvious if she'd been pursuing him, and he'd know because he was at one time pursued by _Anko_ of all people. Anko had been direct in her advances and then had become cleverer when she realized he didn't reciprocate. She was masochistic like that. The more a guy rejected her, the more she'd chase him down. Yamato had, fortunately, slipped through her grasp one time too many. He'd been polite by not mentioning or _showing _that she freaked him out- -you know, the whole snake-thing- -and she'd given up the chase when Genma had shown a spark of disinterest.

Yamato sidled up to a nice large tree, with plenty of bushes for cover, in case he was wrong and Ino _was _trying funny business, and went about matters to relieve himself. Perhaps Ino was a flirt. Most of her flirts were, in fact, harmless. Light touches. It's not like she'd shoved her hand down his pants or ripped off his clothes (both of which Anko did). But if she was so harmless, why did Lady Hokage give him her equivalent of a dire warning? He put out a hand to lean against the tree as he finished up. He seemed unable to get a clear read on Ino, which had been a problem with Kakashi as well, when they first started working together.

And look how that had- -a brush of dry scales along his hand screeched his thoughts to a stop. In the corner of his eye, he saw the tree bark shift; he discerned a curving, slim body almost invisible with its camouflage. Blood went cold and all the air had somehow been sucked out of his lungs. Frozen (_be still, be nothing, be stone_) as a terrified, child's voice in his head screamed at him to get the _hell _away, that thing will fucking _kill_ _you_!, but if he flinched it would strike for sure, and he picked out slit yellow eyes and the flicker of forked tongue as the tree adder tasted the air. He hesitated a second too long in commanding the fear, and in that second, the adder struck.

Not even feeling the snake's bite, Yamato stumbled backwards, half-expecting the adder to shed the brown skin and become an effeminate man with black hair and milk-white skin, and tripped ass-first over an inconvenient log into some thorny undergrowth. When the snake didn't transform and slithered up the tree, hissing, instead, Yamato's mind switched to the sudden, excruciating pain radiating in his hand. Already he felt his muscles tightening and tingling as the venom spread up his forearm to his bicep, shoulder…soon it would reach his heart, his _brain…_

Crashing through the undergrowth. Then, "Master! Master, are you all right?"

"Here!" he called to her, squeezing his wrist with his other hand to slow the venom. The pain felt like his nerves cracking apart one by one. "Shit."

Ino shoved aside the brush he'd fallen into. "What happened? I heard a shout."

In response, Yamato showed her his hand. Even minute shifts sent shockwaves of agony through him. Blood trickled out of twin puncture wounds. She cursed and knelt to his side, ignoring the bushes, and the change over her demeanor was reassuring. Slipping off his hatsuburi from his head, she used a kunai to sever the elastic headband from the plastic then used the elastic as a tourniquet around his upper-arm. Her hair hung over her shoulder, close enough that the end of her ponytail pooled near his face. A fragrance broke through the cloud of pain that clung to his brain.

"That'll have to do. I don't want to risk field medicine in the open like this," she told him.

He started to reply, when they _both _heard a low whistling sound coming from above. Ino had the presence of mind to yank him with her to the side as a giant, carnivorous forest hawk swooped down. A whoosh of air blasted them. Yamato, through the waves of vicious agony wracking him, saw the glint of inches-long talons outspread and the razor-sharp beak. The bird screeched, enraged that dinner had evaded capture, and spread its wings to gain height for another attack.

Already Ino had slung his good arm across her shoulders and had dashed for the house. The movement blinded him with fresh anguish. Breathing through it was becoming more difficult. The venom had definitely spread and already attacked the nerves past his elbow. He could feel nothing else except the consuming splintering of the nerves in his arm.

"Hurry, Ino," he told her, as calmly as he could. "The pain's spreading."

He barely heard her say, "I know. We're almost there. See, there's the door."

Control it; cool the pain. Oh, God, kill me now. Suppress, suppress, suppress…

His vision, spotty, did pick out the open backdoor, but the house wasn't near enough to be of much comfort to him. Ino was capable of defending against the forest hawk, but it would require her to drop him and waste time fighting it off. Time would allow the adder venom to continue its quick progression through his circulatory system, tourniquet or not.

His ears were filled with the hard beating of his heart, but over it he heard Ino shout, "JUMP FOR IT!"

Luckily he had enough capacity left to pool chakra to his feet and push forward. His vision flickered; his brain vying for any relief it could find. Ino guided him, tucked in to her side, and they crashed together through the open door, skidding along the wooden floor. A hawk-shaped shadow crossed the doorway.

Already Ino hovered over him with a kunai. She sliced apart the sleeve to his shirt. He'd broken out into a cold sweat, the pain a constant, crackling force up his arm, quite sickeningly indescribable, as she formed a few signs then pressed one hand to his shoulder and the other to his hand. Healing chakra flowed into him, immersing his arm in cool relief. Finally able to control his breathing, fascinated, he watched a gentle green vapor curl in the air and clear beads of venom pop from his skin, which the vapor collected in a small liquid mass.

"There, that's the venom." She pulled out a vial. Using the chakra to guide the venom into the clear vial, she capped it and stowed it in her hip-pouch. Touching his forehead, she said, "The pain won't spread anymore, but your nerves have been attacked by the poison and will continue to cause you pain in the affected areas. We have to inject you with antivenin to prevent paralysis or permanent nerve damage and fast. We need to get you to the hospital."

His mouth was dry, and his tongue scraped across the roof of his mouth. "We can't leave the training grounds."

"We can't leave? What do you…oh. Well, fuck." She'd caught on to the dilemma, the quick thinker she was. She sighed and ran fingers through her long bangs. "We're locked in until we can summon someone to open the front gates."

"There's an emergency station," he said. "I can get us there."

"Master, I can get us there faster if I know where we're going." Her hand suddenly felt heavy, fingers spreading through his hair, her palm smashing his forehead. "Please relax. I'm going to extract the necessary information."

Protest was useless. The physical sensation of her entering his mind was like being knocked back into a closet; dark, muffled, enclosed. He had the feeling of someone walking in on him naked, that weird, awkward, _embarrassing_ combination of scrambling for clothes before being seen- -covering up what was private. A lilting chuckle rang through the dark.

_Relax, I said. I'm only taking what I need, _Ino said (thought?). _Help me out and think about the emergency station._

He complied. Reality seemed to shrink away. The memory he'd queued up was one a long, long time ago, when he'd been assigned to Kakashi's squad. They'd been working on team cooperation when a freak-accident involving a mistimed exploding tag and a too-powerful jutsu occurred. He stood there in the tree, seeing all this happening, fucking _reliving it,_ the feelings so vivid and intense he couldn't breathe for the sudden panic that hit him- -that he totally thought he'd experienced a genjutsu and hadn't recovered in time to be of any use.

_You're not under genjutsu. This is all your memory…let's fast-forward a bit._ The air hummed, the forest around him blurred, like a painted picture being sucked down a high-powered drain. Now he flew though the trees with Genma draped over a shoulder, Kakashi charging ahead with an unconscious Gekko, en route to the location of the emergency station. _I'm imprinting the path and location of the station to my memories, now. Breathe. This'll feel weird._

The colors, so vivid, faded a bit to hues of grey; the action, his running and his perceived movement slowed to a crawl. The recording of his memory was like an invisible hand ghosting around the inside of his mind, caressing each detail, taking it and storing it away and then spooling through the memory until the end, where he and Kakashi had arrived at the station. Though the memory remained intact, he felt like Ino left behind residue from her 'imprinting'. His body knew something strange and unnatural was happening because he felt cold and tense, the anxiety sliding around in his dark space, and he wanted to flail and scream and _make it stop._

_Calm down…I'm almost through_. Her gentle thoughts blanketed him, controlling where he went inside his own head so that the anxiety shrank up. _This isn't so bad._

_Just…hurry up, _he replied, more than a little concerned she'd go exploring where she didn't belong.

Another laugh. _You don't like someone else inside your head? Maybe now's a good time to ask about Master Kakashi._

_That is not funny._ He slammed himself mentally into the ground to avoid any memories the mention of Kakashi conjured.

_If I wanted to know about Kakashi, I could make you think it, _she said. _You can think about pain all you want, but it has no effect on this technique._

Reading about the Yamanaka clan's mind techniques diminished the scariness of it in real life. She left no trace of surveillance, no trace of interrogation. She could go in, get what she wanted, and leave. No torture necessary. And, if he understood the report correctly, she could make 'connections' with team members and communicate with them telepathically without maintaining contact with them. Combined with her training, Ino's perception of others' thoughts and feelings were unparalleled. Her ability to seemingly understand him implicitly made a whole lot more sense.

The uncomfortable cold and tenseness eased. She must've completed the imprinting. He sent forward a thought. _Are you done?_

_Yeah,_ came her reply._ Let me…clean up a bit. I'll block the nerve endings in your arm to ease your pain temporarily. You won't be able to form signs with that hand._

He sighed. _Yeah, I figured._

_I'm certainly surprised that you, an active ANBU member_- -in her tone was a faux-admonishment- -_ was caught off-guard by a little ole tree adder. Don't they hiss warnings?_

_I was busy peeing, if you don't remember, _he snapped, not appreciating her tease because he felt like a fool, and his earlier worry of being rusty was further proved by this incident. _Now get out of my head._

A sincere feeling of remorse flooded through him. Remorsefulness was a foreign emotion to him, and he realized that it was Ino who was feeling it, and revealing it to him through their shared connection. _I'm sorry, Master. I'm leaving._

She released the jutsu and when she removed her hand from his forehead, he could feel the absence of her mind and feelings. In silence, Ino unzipped her flak jacket, shed it then peeled her long-sleeved shirt over her head, revealing an undershirt comprised of net, black spandex and not much else. When she leaned over him- -stupid him- -he focused on her cleavage a couple seconds before he glanced away. She tied the sleeves around his neck, using her shirt as a sling for his arm, which was numb and the hand and fingers were swollen, looking like sausages ready to break the casings.

"That should help." Ino put on her flak jacket. He hated how her eyes had turned glassy. Was she going to cry? "We should get moving…the longer we wait to get the antivenin in you, the more chance you have of irreparable nerve damage."

"Roger that."

She gave him an amused look, though her eyes were still shiny, and reached down to yank him up. He accepted her assistance in standing. Even though the pain had shocked his body some, he felt capable of moving without her help. Guess he'd see once they got outside the house. That damn forest hawk probably circled about, waiting for its prey to run from cover.

They stood together at the edge of the porch. Ino pointed to a shadow crossing over the grass which indicated that, yes, the forest hawk was in flight and waiting patiently for food.

"We'll sprint for it," Yamato said, adjusting his lax arm to rest more comfortably in the sling, "and weave through the trees to lose the hawk."

"Gotcha."

"Ready on your go."

As one, they leapt from the house and charged into the trees. Ino took the lead and Yamato hung back, following her movements. The forest hawk made several additional attempts at them before soaring off to find easier-caught prey, after which they were able to slow their pace to a more reasonable speed. Even though their pace had slowed, the overall humidity and heat thickened the air. Sweat ran down Yamato's face in rivulets, stinging his eyes and saturating his shirt. Getting to the emergency station took much longer than Yamato remembered, yet the grey, nondescript building surrounded by vines and other shrubbery was a sight for sore eyes.

They landed on the front stoop, where Yamato wobbled enough to plant his good shoulder into the wall. He couldn't catch his breath; he felt nauseous, stomach churning acid. Ino was by his side in an instant.

"You must be suffering from exhaustion and dehydration," she said, after a moment of checking the pulse at his throat. "Let's get inside."

But they were barred entry by another sealing jutsu. Yamato attempted several times to dispel the seal, but his control over chakra was not exceptional enough to do it one-handed. Ino would have to learn to make the signs and mold the proper amount of chakra so they could get in. He told her this.

She smiled as her hand slipped along his shoulder to his neck. "Or I could borrow the information from your head." Her touch, like Kakashi's, burned him.

His licked his lips, cracked now, and considered the options. He didn't want her rummaging around in his head again. He didn't want permanent nerve damage. He didn't want her touching him like she was. At least he was familiar with Ino's technique, and she'd proven trustworthy inside his head the first time.

"Do it," he said.

Her hand shifted from his neck to his nape. Her eyes shut. He was shoved back into the closet again, where he noticed that he could identify her presence inside him, her fullness of emotion expanding through his headspace like a rolling fog. Without prompting, he supplied her with the necessary information, thinking that the sooner she had it, the sooner she'd leave. She imprinted it, that cold tenseness creeping on him, then creeping away, and he found himself blinking rapidly in the afternoon sun.

That was certainly quicker than he expected. He'd slid down the wall to the ground, which was good because her rapid entrance and exit had left him dizzy on top of nauseous, so he relaxed back as Ino, beside him, flipped the correct signs. The seal released and the door popped open.

"Here we are," she said, helping him to his feet.

Inside was air conditioned and he hit the light panel on the inside of the door. The fluorescent lights flickered and buzzed to life. Ino left him to cross the floor, where she turned a lever in the wall. A cot flipped down.

"Lay here for a bit. I'm going to look for the antivenin."

He shuffled to the cot, the room tilting and swooping around him, and stretched out. The cot creaked in protest. His dizziness abated; lying down felt good. The air conditioning cooled his coating of sweat. The tiles on the ceiling were ugly, he thought, and then some clinking turned his attention to Ino, who pawed through a cabinet in the wall over a long counter. She didn't seem pleased.

"Where the hell is it?" she muttered, slapping shut the cabinet. She yanked out a drawer. "It's gotta be around here somewhere." The drawer slammed. He watched her grab a binder and with a strangled yell, sling it across the room. It hit the wall, pages bursting out of the rings and fluttering around. "Motherfucking ANBU can't keep a damn _emergency station _stocked?"

Her frustrated outburst worried him. When she was ANBU, she'd have to deal with much worse situations than this. Compared to ANBU missions, the situation here was nothing but an annoyance. Then Yamato recalled that Sarutobi Asuma had been her master. Ah, so _that_ was it. She felt responsible for keeping him, Yamato, in one piece. Her remorsefulness earlier had been like a path well tread, and the death of her prior master would cause such burdensome feelings.

Yamato grappled with his unwilling body to stand and walk over to her. She was mad as hell, her shoulders heaving and hands clenched at her sides. Before he got to her, she kicked the shit out of an unsuspecting stool; it crashed into another cabinet. Yes, she was overreacting, but she hadn't learned how to control those mercurial emotions, much less lock them up tight. That was _his _job as her master.

He knew he shouldn't touch her, but touch was probably the only action that she would respond to. His hand found her slender shoulder, squeezed. She'd been in the middle of reaching for something else to hurl, but she halted when his hand made contact.

"Ino. Be calm. You can make an antidote from the venom you have in your pouch," he told her, modulating his voice to soothing tones.

"I know. I _know_. It's just that," she put a hand to her face, and to his shock, the tears she hadn't shed this morning poured down her face, "nothing can be easy, you know? Like, how simple would it've been if the antidote had been fucking _stocked_ properly."

Her body radiated her frustration and upset, and before Yamato even realized it, his hand extended across her back, under her stream of hair to the other shoulder. Too easily she turned into him, her face tucked under his chin, and Yamato tensed because he'd _never, ever, not even once,_ been one to comfort a crying girl. He'd seen Sakura cry over Sasuke, but she'd brushed away the tears, set her jaw, and proceeded to pound the crap out of anything that got in her way. He'd never drew _her _into a hug, so why the hell did he feel compelled to do so _now _with his student?

It was too late to step back. Her arms had slipped around his torso, hugging him in return. As pressed as she was against him, he felt her deliberately relax her shoulders and calm her breathing. Maybe he'd get out of this alive. She sighed. Then her head tilted up. Yamato took in her tear-stained pink cheeks, her gently curving mouth, and the heavy lids half-covering the bluest eyes. And the combination of her strength and weakness, her femininity of seeking comfort from him, of the beauty in her smallest details, brought about such a wave of intense arousal, he temporarily lost his sanity.

He leaned his head- -a couple inches, no more- -and kissed her.

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**A/N:** Poor, poor Yamato. He just can't win. Please leave any comments or questions you have, as I enjoy seeing what you think. The next chapter, _Breathing Space_, will be up on Oct. 1st. See you then!


	4. Breathing Space

**A/N**: Hello, again, dear readers. Thank you for showing this story much love, even those of you lurking about! Please enjoy this installment of "Behind the Cat's Mask."

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**Chapter Four: Breathing Space**

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Kissing Ino was nothing like kissing Kakashi. Kakashi sparked electricity, his attention coming and going like summer thunderstorms. Ino…she was consuming heat, a living sun bursting with flame and light. His body immediately absorbed the passion passing from her body to his, the intense heat flaring from his gut to his chest, and a voice kept repeating that this was wrong, he shouldn't be crossing this line, and he would pay the consequences for his infraction. He listened to the voice, understood and accepted its logic, but he couldn't pull away from Ino's devouring lips.

A soft gasp escaped her; she curved into him, her fingers carding through his hair, and Yamato couldn't breathe, couldn't escape her _taking_ from him and his _giving _to her. The kiss took a deeper turn, her mouth opening and allowing his tongue to caress hers. His emotions pummeled him from all angles, and God help him, he blazed with wanting. Her hips pressed his and when she rubbed against his full erection, a quick attack of pleasure and then a lingering ache, forced a groan from him.

He knew they were going too far. Too fast. He needed the antivenin; the front gates unlocked, and rest. He needed _her._ No. Wrong. He _wanted _her.

As soon as that distinction between want and need entered his mind, he felt himself detaching, suppressing, churning up rooted anger from the threat she posed to his self-sufficiency. He could not _need _anyone. That's why his casual relationship with Kakashi worked so well. Kakashi didn't need him; Yamato was free to come and go as he pleased.

After all that inner-wrangling, it was Ino who broke the kiss, shrugging out of the curve of his arm. The inferno backed down with the palpable distance between them. Hormones receded under his strict control, but he felt deprived of air, and panted. Ino, across from him, her fingertips touching her lips, looked stunned. She, too, panted.

"Master," she whispered. Her voice broke, so she cleared her throat and tried again. "Master, I…I didn't mean for that to happen."

He swallowed. Unsure what her apology meant, he said, "I…didn't either." His stomach had that falling-from-high-places feeling he didn't like.

They both stared at each other for a long moment, before she straightened, brushing her bangs from her face, and segued into the cool professional he'd wanted to see a few minutes ago. "I'm going to get started on concocting the antivenin. Will you look for a comlink so we can get the gates unlocked?"

"I can manage that." Any job that was normal and kept them the hell away from each other.

She nodded. Then she stepped around him to kneel and scoop up the scattered papers from the binder she'd thrown. He kept his eye on her for a moment, but when she remained focused on her task, he moved to the back of the station where a control center should be located. The heavy brush with overpowering arousal had shaken him up, and he fumbled at the locks to the center. Eventually he jimmied open the door and stood in the darkened room, the air stale and quiet around him.

A large control panel spanned along the back wall, television monitors hung from above and from all angles. None of the monitors were active. There was a red box labeled "Intercom to HQ" to the side of the control panel. Yamato flipped open the lid to fiddle with the dials. A satisfying _click_, followed by static rewarded his efforts. The link was hot. After adjusting a couple of the dials, he brought the receiver to his mouth and punched the 'radio contact' button.

"HQ, over?" Static, some high-pitched screeching then silence. He tried again. "HQ, over?"

"We copy you," came a man's crackling voice. "State your name and number, soldier."

Yamato complied. He managed to keep the relief out of his voice.

"Copy that. What seems to be your situation, over."

Yamato requested that the front gates be unlocked and that the emergency station should be restocked of medical supplies, particularly tree adder antivenin. HQ received his request and told him that the Groundskeeper would unlock the gates in one hour, but would be relocking them at nineteen-hundred hours. Yamato formally signed off and reset the dials and buttons. Having completed his task, he went back to the main area.

Ino sat at an island, various ingredients and tools in front of her, examining a chart. "How'd it go?" she asked, without looking up, when he stepped through the doorway.

He smiled. "The gates'll be unlocked in an hour and won't be locked until seven tonight."

"Oh…okay…"

That didn't sound good. "Hm? What's wrong?"

"It'll be tight, but I think we'll be fine." She squinted at the chart and picked at something with her fingernail. "Oh! Oooooh…that makes sense."

"Do you need my help with anything?" That he offered surprised him. He knew he shouldn't be ambulant. "Or would I be in your way?"

"Go lie down. Get some water before you do," she added when he moved.

He accepted her suggestion. He found a pitcher of water in a refrigerator and poured a glass to drink while he rested. The water plunged a cool trail that he could physically track as it gushed to his stomach. Again, the cot creaked under his weight. As soon as he adjusted comfortably, Ino rolled over a steel cart, the thing rattling uproariously, and taking his water, placed it on one of the lower levels so he could reach it easily. She untied the sling and refolded the shirt to use it as a pillow for his head.

Silently, he watched her work, her movements precise and practiced. She prodded his arm, swabbed it with alcohol, and inserted the IV needle with one go. He felt none of this. The jutsu she used to block his nerves still held.

"What's the 36 for?" she asked, suddenly.

Her thumb rubbed over the numeric tattoo on the inside of his arm, under his elbow crease. Thirty-six of sixty. One sole survivor. He didn't feel her touch, but he felt the sharp, hard pang of grief. Swallowing did nothing to free the tightening of his throat. He closed his eyes to hide in the pseudo-darkness of his mind.

"Let me know when the antivenin is ready," he told her.

He felt her move his arm- -his shoulder shifted, at least- -and as he readied to look at her, his shoulder shifted down. He kept his eyes shut and relaxed.

Her voice was quiet. "I'll let you know."

Brain scientists say that when a person is trying to sleep, the brain thinks the body is falling, and so frequently, people trying to sleep experience involuntary twitches. Hence, _falling_ asleep. This helpful tidbit of information came to Yamato because he kept twitching awake. He'd be floating, right at the very edge of complete unconsciousness, when he'd be jerked awake because of his stupid brain. After about the tenth or twelfth time, he sighed and opened his eyes. A flutter of movement brought his attention to Ino.

"Master, I'm glad you're awake." She leaned over him, a relieved smile flashing white teeth. "The antivenin's ready. I'm going to release the jutsu blocking the signals your nerves are giving off. That way, we'll be able to tell if the antivenin works. The pain will be excruciating but it's necessary to know for sure."

"Ready." No point in waiting around any longer.

"Okay, if you're sure." At his go-ahead nod, she flipped a few signs. "Release."

Instantly, pain hammered him, a howling, pent-up force a hundred times stronger than he ever imagined, made his vision blur and caused flailing and colorful cursing. Agony was all there was. It was infinite and unrelenting and he wanted to lob off his arm just to separate himself from it. Someone was talking, murmuring, and he noticed an ebbing of the pain flowing from his elbow, along his forearm, to his wrist, hand, and fingers. The sharp clawing of each individual nerve relented and a tingle, like his arm was asleep, replacing the pain.

"Talk to me, Master. How's it feel?" He found Ino's eyes. Her brow crinkled in worry. "Is it getting better?"

He gasped. "Yes. The pain's…lessening."

The antivenin spread as quickly as the venom did, and in a short while, he could feel Ino pinching his arm and fingers. Some numbness remained, a tingling of sorts, and Ino performed another round of medical jutsu, after which the tingling dissipated. As she taped his hand and forearm, Ino told him the swelling would go down, to rest his arm- -_No_ jutsu, she'd said- -until then. She didn't mention his tattoo.

Getting to the front gate would take them a few hours at least, but they decided to eat a quick meal because they hadn't eaten anything since lunchtime the day before. Energized, they cleaned up, sealed up, and headed to the gate. Leaving the cool interior of the emergency station reinforced the cruel humidity of Fire country. Insects sang their evening songs, and Yamato tracked the flipping of Ino's hair as she leapt from branch to branch.

He wondered what would happen now. They'd come to a silent agreement at the station. She acted like nothing unusual had happened, but Yamato couldn't help thinking about what it meant. Did it mean he was emotionally compromised? Certainly he felt differently about her, if because he'd never so fully succumbed to attraction before and that meant she was dangerous. He _was _attracted to her. He _was _capable of suppressing that attraction, but even he had his limits. So what should he do?

The question nagged him the rest of the journey to the front gates. A groundskeeper who was not Anko appeared as they exited, and after a friendly conversation, said he'd do the honors of sealing and locking up the gate. He and Ino stood in the civilization of Konoha, the quiet of twilight cloaking the street and buildings surrounding them.

"Whenever you're ready to start up again," she said, "I'll be ready. Be sure to rest that arm."

She reached out, perhaps to squeeze his good wrist, but he anticipated and blocked her hand. "Good night. I'll send you a message in a few days." He didn't wait for her response before leaping to the rooftops and dashing home.

Kakashi was waiting for him, lights silhouetting his form as he stood in doorframe. Yamato landed on the porch. He never felt so happy to be home.

"Yo." Kakashi had left his face uncovered, smiling in that relaxed way of his, Sharingan eye closed, and Yamato, unable to resist, dropped his head on Kakashi's shoulder, exhausted from _thinking_ about Ino and _being around _her. Kakashi chuckled. "Glad to see you, too."

"Booze. Any type," Yamato responded. Alcohol would do to help him. He slid past Kakashi. "I'm taking a shower. No visiting."

Kakashi slung out an arm, catching Yamato across the chest to stop him. "Your arm's bandaged."

"So it is."

"What happened?"

Yamato didn't feel like being interrogated. "I'm showering. Then let me have a drink, and I'll explain everything."

Kakashi seemed to accept that and allowed him to trod up the stairs to his bedroom. While Yamato waited for the shower water to heat, he debated whether he should untape his arm. An ache had throbbed ever since the antivenin had taken effect, but he felt it was because of his arm bruising. The tape was waterproof, anyway, so he left it on.

After scrubbing off the training grounds- -turning the water a disgusting black- -and throwing on some fresh clothes, Yamato went back downstairs. Kakashi lounged on the couch, _Icha Icha Paradise _in hand. Yamato's wonderful, quiet house, free of carnivorous hawks, tree adders, and most importantly, Yamanaka Ino. Except that he kept returning to her in his thoughts. Two tumblers sat on the coffee table filled with a good measure of amber liquid. Thank God, the good stuff.

Yamato settled in his favorite armchair and picked up the tumbler. Took a sip. The whiskey burned straight down his throat, and the ache in his arm didn't seem so noticeable. He nursed the alcohol, letting the amicable silence between him and Kakashi stretch out. Just for a few minutes, there was silence in his mind, sweet, sweet undisturbed silence. Then fully expecting it, Yamato swirled the last sip and swallowed it back.

"So you've had your drink," Kakashi said, on cue. He turned the page in his novel. "Let's hear it."

"Yesterday Ino trained too hard and collapsed, so we ended up camping out in the training grounds," said Yamato. He sighed. "We got locked in, which wasn't a big deal until I got bit by a damn tree adder."

Kakashi's opened eye flickered over to the bandaged arm. "Hm." Another page flipped. "So Ino had to heal you."

"Yes." Then abruptly, "I think I may be emotionally compromised."

At this, Kakashi lowered the book. "How so?"

"We…" He didn't think telling Kakashi about the kiss with Ino would feel so…embarrassing and dirty. "We kissed."

Yamato hated how Kakashi's mouth curved in a sly smirk. "Is that all?"

"Yes." Really, Kakashi, have some faith in me, Yamato thought. "That's all."

"I fail to see how you're emotionally compromised in the manner that Lady Hokage meant."

"The kiss wasn't very chaste," Yamato said. "There was nothing innocent about it, if you're thinking that."

"You _would_ count a kiss as a sexual encounter," Kakashi answered.

"That's…not all that's been going on. We're getting too familiar. It's not as detached and professional a relationship as it should be."

"So you're attracted to a hot woman." Kakashi's shoulder shrugged, nonchalantly. "You've been through suppression training. Suppress."

"Don't you think I'm trying? No amount of suppression seems to work. No amount of discipline deters her from touching me." He ran a hand through his damp hair. "I think she's doing something to circumvent my efforts."

A long silence greeted him. Yamato looked over and saw Kakashi's eye on him, intent. "What?"

Another smirk bowed Kakashi's mouth. "Or you're fucking horny."

"Don't, Kakashi."

Kakashi didn't relent. "When's the last time you got laid?"

Yamato refused to answer; instead, he stood and stalked over to his liquor cabinet for another measure of whiskey. What did it matter that he hadn't had sex in a few weeks…no, make that a month…going on a month and half…maybe two months? He couldn't remember, but the point _being _was that he _wasn't_ horny. Hormones had nothing to do with his dire situation. When he returned to his armchair, Kakashi still wore a smug smirk.

"Well," Kakashi said, "we've always been familiar. If you want, we can be familiar tonight."

Yamato set his drink on his knee. "Are you…are you inviting me?" Invitations were how he and Kakashi operated because refusing an invitation was easier than refusing a kiss. In theory.

"I don't have plans," Kakashi answered. He gestured with his tumbler. "Cheers."

"I'm…" _not sure_, was how Yamato wanted to finish his sentence. "I'm tired."

"Tenzou. I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm asking you to sleep with me. No commitment required."

How did Kakashi get marriage and commitment out of 'I'm tired'? "I didn't say that!"

At the outburst, Kakashi's brow showed his surprise. "She's gotten to you, hasn't she."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you."

Kakashi sighed and sipped again on his drink. "Then you don't need me, you need to talk to Lady Hokage and get reassigned."

"Reassignment's not an option."

"Heh." Kakashi nodded. "I see. Your pristine record. Reassignment would count as a 'failure', wouldn't it? You can't get reassigned because it would be a red mark on your phenomenal record, and you can't continue the assignment because you've got a raging hard-on for your student. You're between a rock and a Guy."

Yamato nearly wept. "Please…the imagery. And it's not a 'raging hard-on'."

"I'm still not convinced you've been emotionally compromised," Kakashi continued after a moment's silence. "Let me stay with you tonight. We can work whatever it is out of your system."

Kakashi's offer stood even after Yamato waffled on it the first time around. He looked at the empty glass, recalled the whole-body implosion, of being unable to breathe or think or _control_ during the apocalyptic kiss shared with Ino. Kakashi's hand fell on his arm, causing Yamato to jump in surprise from the jolt of electricity he associated with Kakashi's touch.

"You know, there's another option." Kakashi had scooted to the end of the couch closest to Yamato. "You could give in to Ino. Lady Hokage would never have to know."

"True. But _I _would know and that would be worse."

Kakashi shook his head. "As morally sound as always, Tenzou."

"Don't tease. This is serious. I suspect she's gotten some kind of psychological training…she's been able to recognize Anko's chakra signature, but nothing of that nature is on her file. I feel like Lady Hokage might be withholding information from me."

The smile on Kakashi's face flattened. He gazed levelly at Yamato and said, "You think Ino's been training with the Torture and Interrogation Squad? Just because she was able to recognize Anko's chakra signature? She _has _worked with Anko on other missions."

"Okay, then, why me?" Talking to Kakashi had brought up issues he hadn't thought of. "If Ino has worked with Anko before, wouldn't assigning her to be Ino's instructor make better sense? And don't tell me I'm being paranoid. You know I've never been wrong with my hunches."

Kakashi gestured with his hand. "Let's say you're right. Lady Hokage is withholding information about Ino, and that information pertains to Ino's training with the Interrogation Squad. Why hide it? What's the point?"

"And that's the angle I can't figure. Lady Hokage has always trusted me, so I don't know why she'd sneak a psych eval on me." Yamato set the tumbler on the coffee table. "If I'm due to be evaluated, order me."

"Maybe…it's not an evaluation."

Yamato rubbed his forehead. "What else would it be?"

Kakashi lapsed into a long silence. When Yamato glanced over, he found Kakashi looking off in the middle distance, his features serious. His stomach sinking, Yamato waited for Kakashi to drop the bomb.

"Lady Hokage's grandfather was the founder of this village," Kakashi said quietly, "yet his bloodline limit was not passed down to the next generation. You were able to survive his DNA implanted into your genes." Kakashi turned his head to look directly at Yamato. "This could be a play to…ensure your bloodline limit survives. The First Hokage's sacred Wood Release technique."

Yamato's mouth fell open. "That…can't be it." But a tiny fish nibbled at the bait.

"Ino's clan has always excelled in Interrogation," Kakashi continued. "The ANBU members of that squad are also used in deep undercover missions."

"Missions even inside their own village," Yamato whispered. He'd heard the stories. Shinobi who married their targets to monitor their movements. _Counterintelligence_. His chest felt constricted. "Missions lifelong in completion."

"Yes," Kakashi agreed.

Was that true? Was that what was happening to _him_? Only Ino wasn't spying on him, she was assigned the mission of…conceiving his offspring. No. Lady Hokage wouldn't do something so insidious, so conniving. But Ino's recognition of Anko's chakra…her high skill level…

"That was a joke, Tenzou," Kakashi said, almost cheerfully. "Ino probably has a crush on you and that's extent of it. Bed?"

Yamato stared at Kakashi, unsure if he heard correctly. Kakashi's face split in a shit-eating grin, one that he reserved for when Yamato made an ass of himself. How…horrible. He felt like kicking Kakashi out of the house for playing such a mean trick. Kakashi stood and tugged Yamato up with him.

"Don't get huffy," Kakashi said, leaning in. Electricity snapped between them. "I apologize."

Yamato didn't have a chance to accept or deny the apology because Kakashi, of course, didn't let him.

* * *

**A/N: **As always, please leave any questions, concerns or comments you have. =) The next chapter, _Don't Cross This Line, _will be out to you on Oct. 8th. See you then!


	5. Don't Cross This Line

**A/N**: Welcome back, readers, to another chapter of "Behind the Cat's Mask"! Please, enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Five: Don't Cross This Line**

* * *

A crisp static shock in his brain woke him. Yamato had thought he'd brushed up against Kakashi, whose body heat toasted the sheets, but the shock was wasn't a spark of want, it was a warning. They had crossed his land-sensors. They- -a male and female, since the sensors fed him density information- -were shinobi and were set to arrive at the front door in a few short seconds. Polite shinobi, to come to the front, he thought, as he rolled out of bed and hauled on the clothing rumpled on the floor.

Kakashi had kept him awake rather late, and for a man who shunned talkative people, Kakashi had been a veritable chatterbox, filling in Yamato on Naruto's progress on a kick-ass, Class-S jutsu; that Anko and Genma had split for the hundredth time; and that Shizune and Izumo were a hot item around the village. Really, Yamato felt like Kakashi had been suffering from _Icha Icha Paradise _withdrawal, even when Kakashi assured him that wasn't the case.

A pink bob- -Sakura- -greeted him when he opened the door. "Good morning, Captain. I've got breakfast!"

Naruto stood at her shoulder, as tall as Yamato was, now that he'd hit a growth spurt. "Captain." He carried a casserole dish with both hands, and he offered it. "You mind if we share?"

Yamato accepted the dish then stepped aside to allow them to enter. He found it strange that they should come to his house bearing breakfast because they usually met at a training ground or elsewhere _after _eating separately. And how did they even know where he lived? Kakashi wouldn't have told them. Yamato had never invited them over, but perhaps they got his address from Lady Hokage for whatever reason.

On the foil covering the casserole, he noticed a taped-on card with instructions. He recognized Sakura's medical-precise handwriting, but she used purple ink on a card embossed with elaborate flowers and butterflies. That didn't exactly jive with Sakura's scorn of all things feminine.

"We haven't seen you in awhile, so we thought we'd drop by," Naruto said, as Yamato cranked the dial to preheat the oven. "Has Master Kakashi told you about my new move?"

"He has, actually. Sounds pretty exciting," replied Yamato, also taking a seat at the kitchen table. "How'd you finally figure it out?"

Naruto went on a tangent about how he went to the ramen shop where all the noodles in his bowl swirled in _one _direction and if he'd figured out how they got like that…etcetera. Yamato nodded his way through Naruto's explanation and escaped when the oven light ticked off, preheated. He read the directions on the recipe card. Squinted. The handwriting looked like Sakura's in that it was neat, but the letters curved slightly too much to be wholly Sakura's.

"Captain, what happened to your arm?" Sakura had come into the kitchen to stand beside him. "It's strange seeing you bandaged up. I've rarely seen you injured."

He decided to avoid the subject. His training with Ino was classified, though Sakura would probably know about it. "Did _you_ write the instructions on this card?"

"Um, no." Her eyes flickered to his arm. "I can take a look at that, if you want."

"If you didn't, who did?"

She smiled. "Aren't you going to put the casserole in? It takes a half-hour to bake."

"Who wrote the instructions?" Yamato, too, could play this back and forth game.

An aggravated huff from the table. "Ino gave us the casserole to bring over and _she's _the one who wrote the instructions on the card."

"Naruto!" Sakura wheeled around. "Can't you keep a secret?"

Yamato dropped the card on the counter as though it burned him. "Ino?"

"Yes. She said this was an apology casserole, but she didn't say why. She wanted us to share with you since she thought you wouldn't accept it otherwise." Then Sakura bent in conspiratorially. "So, Captain. Why _would _she need to apologize?"

"Yo, Master Kakashi!"

Naruto's exuberant greeting turned Yamato's attention to the backdoor, as Kakashi slid it shut and sauntered into the dining area, mouth covered and hitai-ate down. He must've gotten dressed then snuck out over the roof. Perfect timing, as usual, since Yamato certainly did not want to discuss Ino with her best friend and blabbermouth-boy.

"Yo!" Kakashi's eye squinted. "I didn't realize we'd planned a team meeting, otherwise I wouldn't have helped that little old lady across the street to the hair parlor."

"This is…impromptu," Yamato supplied. "Courtesy of Ino."

"Courtesy of Ino," echoed Kakashi. Though unseen, Yamato felt the weight of Kakashi's smirk. "How nice of her to think of you."

"Well, we won't be able to eat unless you stick the stupid casserole in the oven," said Naruto, and as impatient as always, paired his comment with a pout at Yamato. Then, "How'd you know we were here, Master?"

As Kakashi rambled an answer, nonchalantly exulting his superior ninja skills, Yamato took his cue and slid the food into the oven on the middle rack. The heat dispersed in the kitchen, warming the normally chill area. Dishes sat in the drying rack from two mornings ago when Ino had occupied this same space. Did she think she could ply him with food? Casserole would not win him over, and in fact, had broken his strict vow of privacy by allowing Naruto and Sakura in on his address. He _could_, however, be reading too much into the breakfast offering, and she really was sorry about their…indiscretion.

Ino's casserole baked and was consumed by the four of them without further incident. Naruto and Sakura left, and Kakashi hovered, mainly to avoid conversation with the other two. Eventually, Yamato shooed Kakashi out of the house, and as he wiped down the counter, he accidently knocked the recipe card to the floor. The card fluttered to the tile, face down, and he saw writing, in the same hand and ink, on the opposite side.

_Master, I'm sorry for not being sorry. And just so you know, I plan on doing it again._

An elegant flower was her signature.

It took the allusion to the explosive kiss for him to relive it, the incredible blast of heat licking his insides, stirring up an insatiable ache. He breathed hard through his nose and cut short the memory. The fierce emotions waned, but the tinge remained.

At least she'd given him fair warning, Yamato thought sardonically, flipping the card between his fingers. He was not normally a man to jump to conclusions, but the underlying message was that Ino was in hot pursuit of him. He hadn't been sure. He'd been trying to convince himself all along that her intentions were harmless and that he'd been overreacting. The message blew those convictions right out of the water and into the freaking desert. Ino would not concentrate to her full potential if she attempted to draw him into a relationship with her; she would get herself killed, if anything.

His best option, then, would be to request a reassignment from Lady Hokage. A failure on his record didn't matter. If Anko and Ino were anything alike, Yamato didn't want to have any part of becoming Ino's conquest after his horrifying experiences with Anko. But he hesitated. Failure didn't sit well with him after he'd perfected the art of mission completion so that his success rate was nearly one-hundred percent. When the Hokage wanted something done right, he or she sent Tenzou.

And therein lay his dilemma. He tapped the card on the countertop. Thinking.

Wait. An idea flickered, weakly. Wait, wait, wait. Maybe he was thinking of this wrong. Reassignment sounded like cowardice, and Yamato was _not _a coward. What he could do…he paused to let the thought form. What he could do was confront Ino. Explain bluntly that he wasn't interested and he didn't appreciate being hunted like some Class-S rogue shinobi. Strategically, he had the advantage. He held her promotion in his hands. If she didn't comply to his set boundaries, she would not be promoted.

Now was a good a time as any. Yamato didn't dawdle as he hauled on his flak jacket and hatsuburi and located Ino's apartment building in downtown Konoha that he memorized off her file. The place was pretty classy, a renovated old building with lots of glass, with airiness of open space and clean white. On her file, he knew her address was up a few floors, and since he wanted the advantage of surprise, Yamato went around on the outside to hop on her balcony.

He knew Ino would be able to detect his chakra, so his best bet would be to get the lay of the land and prepare for an offensive strike when she came out to him. The French doors were flung open, and he stepped in. The doors opened into a living space with a couch, a couple smallish armchairs set around a glass coffee table, and a television on a stand against the wall. Across and a smidge to the right was her front door, with what looked like a hall closet. The open kitchen overlooked the living room, divided by a counter and bar stools.

Immediately he was struck by the scent of the place. Lemon. Sweet flowers. Perfume. The fragrance seemed to accentuate the feminine touches in an otherwise uncluttered space. Not girlie, like dolls and lace, but womanly touches, like vases of flowers and a sense of color coordination that Yamato found striking in such a small place. Tasteful paintings, souvenirs, and framed pictures (dozens of them, big and small) spanned along the walls.

"I didn't realize I'd be having company."

Ino's bemused comment came from the hallway leading to the left of the apartment. She walked into the living room wearing matching panties and a bra. Yamato was not overly familiar with women's undergarments, but he'd seen enough to know 'average everyday underwear' from 'bombshell sex-kitten'. Ino's underwear definitely swung on the bombshell sex-kitten side with it being purple leopard-print satin. Her bra…was, oh God, push-up.

Don't look at the cleavage. It will kill you. Keeping his eyes on her face, he said, "I'm returning the favor from two mornings ago when you snuck into _my _house."

"I didn't realize a shinobi would get so uptight about a little break-in," she answered. She fluffed her loose hair and moved to the couch and coffee table. "Besides, I made it up to you with breakfast. _And _I did the dishes."

The comfortable way she arranged herself on the couch left Yamato stalling in disbelief. Did she have no decency? But…this could be part of her counterstrike. She'd felt his chakra signature and must've realized he was waiting for her, and could've taken the time to dress. Her underwear was essentially functioning as her weapon. Truly, a move worthy of a kunoichi. Two, however, could play that game, and Yamato refused to be distracted by a set of great tits and sexy underwear.

In all her flagrant nudity, her pale skin and toned muscles, he hadn't noticed she had a small bottle of green nail polish in her hand. She propped a foot on the coffee table and unscrewed the top. Then, as though they'd reached the extent of their conversation, she proceeded to dab nail polish on her toenails.

He stared at her from his position near the balcony doors. Her hair cascaded over her back and shoulders, and the armrest of the couch shielded most of her assets from his eyes. She had now painted three toes a dark, rich green.

Slightly perturbed, Yamato asked, "You're not even going to ask me what I'm doing here?"

"I'm assuming you're here admiring me in my cute panty-set." Ino didn't look at him. "Am I right? I'm right, aren't I."

She was baiting him. Yamato kept his cool. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not here for your panty-set, cute or otherwise."

"Awww, I _am_ disappointed."

"Then you're in for some more bad news." He flicked the recipe card so that it skittered on the coffee table. It came to a rest right near her small foot.

Ino wiggled her toes, having finished one row of toenails and ignored the card. "Oh? What's that?"

"I want you to desist in pursuing a romantic relationship with me."

"A romantic relationship," she repeated. "The casserole was an apology, not a come-fuck-me-now invite."

Yamato scowled at her difficult nature. "Of course it was an apology. For not being sorry in the first place!"

"I wasn't sorry. Your head's a fascinating place to occupy," she said. She'd started painting the other toes. "I apologized because you felt you needed to be apologized to."

This…wasn't going as planned. "Wait…are…you saying you're not sorry for…Shintenshin?"

She laughed, keeping the nail polish brush aloft. "Yes. What did you think I wasn't sorry for? The kiss? If you recall," she leaned over and continued dabbing the row of nails, "I didn't apologize for that."

Shit. She was right. She had said she hadn't meant for the kiss to happen. "But you _have _been flirting with me, and I'm _not _interested in you."

"Still stuck on Kakashi, hunh?"

The accuracy of the comment immediately riled him. He opened his mouth to deny, but he clamped it shut. She was either teasing or trying to get a reaction from him, and at the moment, he couldn't quite tell which it was. He leaned toward the tease, since she'd mentioned Kakashi under the effects of Shintenshin and her intent then had been to tease. And that was beside the point of this conversation. She _had _been flirting with him in a subtle way, and he felt vindicated that he'd been correct in interpreting her signals.

"You're admitting to flirting with me, then."

"Of course I've flirted with you. But you don't have to worry anymore, Master," she added, sticking the polish wand into the bottle. "You're too much of a prickly pear for my tastes."

_He_, a prickly pear? "What exactly does that mean?"

Ino stood and faced him. He couldn't help glancing at her lovely breasts, the slope of her hips accentuated by the panties, the hipbones and slender thighs so well-defined. His fingers suddenly itched to touch her skin.

"It means…" She huffed. "Hey, you wanna look me in the eye?"

Caught, Yamato blinked and felt heat rush to his face. "I'm…sorry. That was inappropriate. Perhaps you should…put on some clothes?"

Her smirk reminded him of Kakashi's. "Sure. Give me a minute. Get something to drink, if you want and have a seat. My house is yours." She turned away and as she left the room, Yamato realized his eyes had dropped to her ass peeking through the curtain of blonde hair. He needed a drink. Something strong.

As much as he would have relished poking around in her kitchen cabinets and hall closet, he resisted and chose, instead, to plop into an armchair. Sitting in the armchair would prevent Ino from enclosing on his personal space, and the chair he picked gave him an escape route to the front and backdoors. A few minutes passed when he heard her footsteps, muffled by the plush carpet, come down the hallway. She swung through the doorway wearing civilian clothes: sleeveless shirt and a nice-looking skirt.

"I'd ask if you found anything interesting," she said, as she sat on the couch across from him. Thin silver bracelets jingled on her slim wrist. "But you…you're too polite to go rummaging around in other people's personal spaces while they're there, aren't you?"

"Can I have your assurance that you'll desist from attempting to engage in a romantic relationship with me? If you refuse to desist, I _will _kill your promotion into ANBU."

Up went her brows. "You're single-minded. Fine. While I'm your student, I won't pursue you. Happy?"

"No, in fact," Yamato said. "What did you mean by prickly pear?"

"You sure you want me to be open with you?" Another smirk.

"Tell me, Ino."

"You're skittish," she said, tucking her bangs behind her ear. "You're very shy, I think, especially around people you haven't known for your whole life. Thus, prickly pear. And besides, I'm interested in Genma, now that he and Anko've broken up again."

He glared at her, unwilling to categorize himself as a prickly pear, skittish, and shy. There were good reasons for his intense need for privacy, reasons that Ino had touched upon during their continued contact. Though she seemed a sympathetic soul, he didn't trust her enough to allow her completely in the fold that Kakashi, Lady Hokage, and until a few years ago upon his death, the Third, occupied. Her eyes were on him, shrewd, and he knew she'd said those things to induce him to defend himself.

Yamato changed tactics. "You're after Genma? Isn't he…older than you?"

More importantly, Genma was a _prick_. Any other girl (correction: _all_ other girls) aside from Anko had gotten chewed up and spat out in a week and sometimes, it took a single night. Sometimes, it was more than one girl at the same time. Yamato didn't like the image he had of Ino's infinite light guttering out like some burned-down candle. His heart rapped in his chest.

"_You're _older than me. What difference does it make?" she asked, going along with his new track.

"I'm older than you by eight years. He's older than you by…what?" Yamato scratched his head. "Ten years? Eleven?"

"Master. I'm not a child. I'm an adult. Eight years or ten, that's still within my age bracket." She gestured her hands, and the bracelets on her one wrist clinked together. Yamato liked the sound. She continued, "I think you'd have a right to be concerned if Genma was forty or fifty. But he's not. So…he's up for grabs."

He looked at her evenly, knowing what she said was true, knowing that she was a capable kunoichi and that he had no goddamn business saying what he was about to say next. His instincts screamed at him that she and Genma were a bad idea, a very, extremely bad idea. So why, why, _why,_ was he ignoring his own voice of reason and opening his mouth?

"Ino," he said, scratching at a non-existent stain with his thumbnail, "Genma has a sort of…reputation. A _bad _sort of reputation. For women. Meaning, he…uses them up and tosses them out. Like they're…disposable."

He stopped, waiting for her argument, but when he glanced at her, she remained collected, sedate. Embarrassment burned his ears and, yes, his cheeks, and he needed a stiff drink now more than ever. Why had he said _anything?_ It was none of his business. The silence continued, with Ino's stunning blue eyes piercing through him, until he squirmed mentally. Could she be…why did he feel like he'd been cornered?

"I apologize. I shouldn't have said anything," he said to break the moment. He stood and headed for the open doors, for escape. The sweet perfume had given him a headache. "You…you have…best of luck with Genma."

She grabbed his elbow. "Listen. Shizune and Izumo wanted me to hook up with Kotetsu so the four of us could go on a double date. Is Kotetsu all right?"

Anyone but Genma. "Kotetsu's a good guy," Yamato said, peeling her hand off his elbow. "I think you'll like him."

He evaded her, dodging out the balcony windows and heading back to his home. Had she played him? Had Ino only said she was pursuing Genma, knowing the guy's awful history, to gauge Yamato's feelings for her? And if so, what was the purpose of asking him about Kotetsu as if she needed his blessing to go out with him? Yamato abruptly changed directions, heading instead to Naruto's usual training grounds where Kakashi would surely be.

There was probably nothing to worry about. He was giving Ino too much credit and was reading too much into her words and actions. Kakashi had planted that stupid idea in his head- -the idea where Ino was commissioned by Lady Hokage to continue the First's bloodline limit- -so he was thinking everything Ino did had some underlying reason or purpose. She was just an eighteen year old girl, testing her limits, looking for a partner to commit to, and certainly _not_ playing mind-games with her old fogey master.

Regardless, Yamato needed Kakashi to assure him that everything was fine and there was nothing to worry about.

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**A/N:** If you have any questions, concerns or comments, please make sure to leave them. Coming up next on Oct. 15th is _Wishing Doesn't Make It So_. See you then! =)


	6. Wishing Doesn't Make It So

**A/N: **Hello, again, dear readers. I'm satisfied with how well this story is being received; in fact, I'm thrilled. I would like to reiterate that there are many more chapters waiting in the wings, so I do hope you're in it for the long run! But enough. Please, enjoy.

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**Chapter Six: Wishing Doesn't Make It So**

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Kakashi _had _eventually assured him that Ino wasn't playing mind games, but _after _he'd cackled with laughter so hard Yamato was sure he'd have to perform CPR on him. Quite unsettled, Yamato left to write up a report to Lady Hokage to update her on Ino's training. Later that day, he'd unwrapped his arm and found it a colorful, blotchy purple-green-blue up to his elbow.

A couple days later, he and Ino had resumed their training schedule at a hard pace and so far, two weeks had come and gone without any further incidents. Ino's skill accelerated nicely, and Yamato found his arm had healed completely and his ability to use jutsu did not seem affected. The jutsu he used to cordon off an area of the ANBU training grounds attested to that; he wanted to train Ino in peace, without having to worry about a new and improved death threat.

"It's such beautiful weather," Ino said, sipping from her canteen. "Do you think we could just enjoy the rest of day?"

She was right; the weather had cooled to decent warm temperatures, and there was a lovely breeze that swept over them. Lunch had been quiet, at least, and Ino was seated in the tall field grass across from him, her ponytail streaming over her shoulder. They were near each other, within arm's reach.

"You know you're on a schedule," he told her. She was mastering the necessary techniques so rapidly, Yamato expected her to be ready for promotion within the year.

"Hm. Yeah." She looked off into the distance, setting down the canteen. Then she wiped her forehead. "Master, tell me about your days in ANBU."

Her question didn't catch him off-guard. He'd been careful to keep on his toes around her, even though her attitude toward him had cooled to a professional degree. She hadn't asked him a very personal question since he'd confronted her a couple weeks ago. Was his past in ANBU personal? And what could he tell her of his experiences anyway? Most of them were classified as need-to-know.

"When did you decide you wanted to join ANBU?" she clarified. "Surely that's something you can tell me."

His memories stirred. A vivid image of the Third's white robe. A large, full classroom with staring faces. _Older_ faces. Fresh notebooks, pens, and books under his small arm. His first day at Academy after he'd been rescued from the lab. What he really remembered was the Third's hand on his shoulder, warm and encouraging, as he'd nudged a newly named five-year old into a world of peers.

"I think that I had always felt like I should be in ANBU," he said. "I greatly admired the Third and wanted to do all I could to secure his vision of the future for Konoha."

"Were you very close to him?"

_I'm so proud of you. You are one of my favorites, one of my _most_ trusted pupils_, the Third had said after the chuunin exams, when Yamato had passed with ease. _I want you to be a part of Konoha's future. There's a very special group that I think you'd excel in…_

Yamato crossed his arms. "I suppose that depends on your definition of close."

"Close…as in…you trusted him with your life and vise-versa."

"Then, yes, we were close." Yamato watched as Ino stretched out on her side, resting her head on her arm and draping the other over her stomach. "Don't get too comfortable. We'll be starting again soon."

"I know. Is it true you graduated Academy at age six?"

"Yes. But I'm not considered a prodigy or anything."

"Do you mean like Kakashi?" Ino filled in. "Sakura told me he'd graduated Academy at age five, and was promoted to chuunin at age six."

"You're correct. I just have great chakra control and the First's Wood Release technique."

"Nuh-uh," Ino said, laughing, "you're an intellectual too. I bet you've outsmarted Kakashi a few times."

His smile was unintentional. "Yes, a few. But Kakashi usually has the upper-hand in our matches."

"Because of his Sharingan?"

Yamato paused, having backed himself against a wall. He'd been thinking about how Kakashi could switch from lover to enemy without hesitation. Yamato had never been able to battle Kakashi and feel comfortable. The first time he'd ever fought Kakashi he'd been intimidated by the Sharingan. He'd went on to defeat Kakashi in a few other sparing matches, but later, when they'd gone on missions together and survived and killed and bled and become so much more than two separate men, he'd never been able to think of Kakashi as his enemy, even when Kakashi bared down on him with Chidori. Kakashi seemed capable of blanking out the part of himself that loved Yamato. Yamato, however, was _not _capable of doing that.

"Yes, because of the Sharingan," he answered finally. He gazed off over the field as the grass waved in the breeze, but a squeeze on his foot brought his attention down to Ino's icy glare.

"You're lying to me." Her hand's grip tightened on his foot then released, and as easily, her glare softened. "So after you graduated Academy, what then?"

She'd forgiven him for not telling her the truth, so Yamato decided to be forthcoming with his answers. "I became chuunin that same year. The Third began grooming me for the ANBU, which I joined when I was twelve. Kakashi was already fifteen at the time and a seasoned ANBU vet."

"You both…made a…great team."

"We did, and still do, if the occasion calls for it." He glanced at Ino. Her eyelids drooped over her eyes, blonde lashes fluttering. "As we will when the time comes."

"We'll be…working…together?" Her words slurred as her eyes shut.

"Of course. I'm training you as my partner," he said, softly, though Lady Hokage had made no indication of Ino's future as his partner, "just as Kakashi trained me as his."

Ino had fallen asleep. He watched the rise and fall of her chest, her breathing through her nose. The sunlight beamed on her, warming the color of her hair to a rich wheat-color, and her cheeks had a red tinge from sunburn. Dark smudged under her eyes. Yamato hadn't thought she seemed so tired, but he supposed a quick catnap wouldn't hurt her.

He laced his fingers together and rested back, pillowing his head on his hands. The quiet pleased him, the shake of dry grass and the low buzz of insects. The sound of Konoha, his home, his life. His own eyes closed with the intention to rest them and meditate.

He swore he'd been daydreaming for a couple minutes, but the brush of gentle fingertips along his jaw woke him. She'd slipped off his hatsuburi without him noticing and had tucked herself alongside him, leaning over him, so that her face was even with his. Her loose hair tumbled down her arms, her shoulders, and perfumed the air with the sweet, light flower scent he associated with her.

At the moment, he seemed unable to understand the situation. He attempted to push her away, but his fingers somehow tangled in the flaxen hair, and when he drew back his hand, her head came with it and her mouth dragged across his. That tiny contact locked him in. The burn flared up, the inferno that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, the deep, deep want that opened an ache through him, all of it boiled up and over and before he could breathe, he was plunging further into it, into her.

His hand, silken strands wove between the fingers, found her nape and kept her mouth crushed on his. Their tongues met, flowed together like the light from the sun to water, and he had no reason, no resistance left, if there had been any in the first place. He rolled, his body weight throwing her to her back, and vaguely heard her gasp when his hardened length pressed into her thigh. His hand finally shook free of her hair and he dove it under the hem of her shirts to touch her soft hip, traveling up the smooth ribs to the satin of a bra molding a perfect breast. She groaned and bucked her hips when he caressed the side of her breast and passed a thumb over a peaked nipple.

A tickling in his ear jerked him awake. Blue skies. Blades of grass. This time he bit the inside of his cheek to make sure. Yes. He was really awake. He plucked off the offending grass, as his heart pounded in his chest and his pants sported a decent tent. Right. He'd been in the middle of sex-dream about Ino. He knew that because he rarely had sex-dreams, and rarer still had they featured a young blonde female.

Quickly, he sat up and forced the hormones down. Ino had shifted in her sleep, falling to her back and spreading her arms and legs out. She was out cold and lay actually perpendicular to his position in the grass. Okay, so he'd been a victim of his hyperactive subconscious. He could deal with the subconscious because it meant _he _was at fault, not Ino. On second thought, he wasn't sure which was worse.

But Kakashi had promised him hormones had been to blame, and after they'd slept together, Yamato's attraction to Ino calmed, with the exception of seeing her in her purple panty-set, and come on, no one would have survived that without at least a nosebleed. Not that he'd been thinking about it or anything. So maybe, he thought, he needed another night with Kakashi. Get those hormones out of his system. Ino would never be the wiser, and he could get on with handling her in the professional manner she deserved. Everything would be fine.

Calmer now, breathing under control, Yamato rubbed the sleep from his eyes and licked his teeth. Their lunch hour had turned into a siesta. Shadows had lengthened, and though it was light out, he judged it to be late afternoon. They had enjoyed the rest of their day, he supposed, and leaned over to wake up Ino.

A ladybug crawled its slow way across her cheek. Without thinking, he brushed it off with the back of his hand. Her skin was smooth and clean and Yamato felt compelled to touch it. Ino's eyes blinked open when he eventually withdrew his hand. She yawned, stretched, and reached out her hand to catch his to help herself sit up. He allowed it, and retrospectively, he shouldn't have. But she was beautiful, the drowsiness having not yet left her eyes, so when she leaned forward, he didn't think she was leaning to kiss him.

She did kiss him. The sex-dream had been lurking around in his skull, and it unfurled a canvas of arousal and fire and intense focus on her mouth and wet tongue and nipping teeth, almost like he'd never been away, while disregarding the reasonable, panicked Yamato yelling, _This is inappropriate! Stop immediately!_

Who cared about reason when her fingers threaded between his, her body folded against him, and soft moans escaped her throat? He liked the attention lavished on his lips, her tongue dipping into his mouth to run along the edge of his teeth. She was much more responsive than Kakashi, taking Yamato's lead when he exerted it. He liked it, but he also knew he had to stop it or he would regret shoving her to the grass and taking from her what he wanted.

He could not want this. He could not need this. Steel and ice purged the inexplicable attraction to Ino, the ache she seemed to pull from his depths to his surface. He didn't even know what he intended to do until he did it.

With great effort he broke his hand from hers and pushed it up her arm, around her shoulder, and gripped her neck. He was sorry for this. He was so, so sorry. But he had to. He _had to._ When he squeezed, feeling her pulse and tendons under his strong fingers, the kiss snapped as she jerked back, gasping. Her eyes had gone wide in surprise. Already her face turned a bright red and veins engorged near her eyes.

"Relax. Don't struggle," he told her when her fingers scrabbled on his hand, fingertips digging under his thumb. "Let this happen."

Her hand fell away, and she kept their gazes locked- -hers going wild- -as he guided her down to the grass. Like a lovely doe, understanding her cruel fate as the hunted and dying, she dug her purple fingernails into the soil and allowed him to choke her unconscious. He released her neck and detested the red prints on her pale skin, loathed himself for his inability to control his fucking hormones and subconscious.

Oh, God. Why had he choked her out? He could've reacted a thousand different ways, but of course he had to overreact and pseudo-strangle his own damn student. Lifting her from the grass and arranging her piggy-back style, Yamato dodged to the trees and dashed through them to the front gates. Some part of him had been prodded, an unbreakable sense of self-preservation that had turned against her. It had been desperate, he realized, _he'd _been desperate to force her to stop using such a manner.

His brain whirred around the agony of what he'd done, what he should do, and where he could go to solve this _thinking_ problem he seemed to have the entire journey to Ino's apartment. If this last incident wasn't an indication that he needed to be reassigned, he wasn't sure what was. As soon as he dropped her off at her apartment, he'd go to the Hokage Tower and submit a formal request to Lady Hokage. He couldn't deal with subconscious and hormones and women with sparkling blue eyes and soft lips.

Her balcony doors were unlocked, so he went in- -hit full-force with lemon/flower/perfume smell- -and trod down her hallway to her bedroom. Once again, he was struck by the womanly touches, how the place that showed any clutter was a vanity to the side of the double bed. Earrings, bracelets, perfume bottles, make-up odds and ends scattered across the surface.

After arranging Ino on her bed and taking off her boots and flak jacket, Yamato allowed himself to look at her vanity more closely. Aside from what he'd first noticed, he saw that a drawer in the vanity jutted out, not quite closed. He opened it and discovered it spanned the entire vanity sideways and back. Inside she had the whole gamut of the rainbow, and then some, of nail polish, and furthermore, she'd arranged them in color-coordinated groups. He picked out the electric-blue nail polish she'd worn the first day they'd met; the Naruto-orange on the day she'd saved his life; the forest-green for their confrontation; and currently, she wore a deep purple which was separated out from its companions on the top of the vanity.

Her fetish endeared her to him. The nail polish collection was eccentric, but didn't they all have eccentricities? Kakashi and his _Icha Icha Paradise _books. Genma and his senbons. Sai and his artwork. Naruto and ramen. The list went on.

"Master?" Ino's softly rasping voice froze him. "Are you all right?"

He'd lingered too long looking at her collection, and she'd woken without him realizing it and now he was trapped without a plan to handle her. He glanced over, his heart in his throat. She'd not sat up.

"Are you all right?" she asked again, swallowing. "Did I frighten you?"

He didn't know how to respond, so he settled on saying, "I should be asking you those questions."

"I'm fine." Her gaze was level. "You're not planning on doing anything stupid, are you?"

Affronted, Yamato said, "I never plan on doing anything stupid." Then, when the slight indignation passed, he said, "What do you mean?"

"Master, the kiss was…it was…an accident," she said. Her eyes shone. "I was dreaming about…someone, and I thought that…I thought that you were him. I didn't mean it."

Was she going to cry? "Yes, but it still happened, and I don't think our relationship is…what it should be."

"Look, I know you gave me that whole speech about being heartless and cruel," she said, sniffing, "and I'm…_trying _to be that way. I'm _trying _to suppress my emotions. But I made a mistake. Please, can you give me another chance? Will you accept my apology?"

Please, accept. The magic words. He hesitated, remembering the recipe card. "I think we've tried to work _this_"- -he gestured between them- -"out, and we've come to an impasse. The best solution is to separate."

"Are you…going to request reassignment?" Her question was breathless, and he tracked a tear as it rolled down her cheek and disappeared into her hair line. "You _are, _aren't you? Dammit, I've screwed everything up!"

When she buried her face in her hands, he was torn between comforting her- -which, when he thought of the _last _time he comforted her, wasn't really an option- -and leaving. He chose instead to sit at her feet on the edge of the bed. Her bare feet and delicate ankles beckoned him, so he put his hands in the pockets of his flak jacket.

Guilt struck him because he wanted to help, he _wanted_ to, but he didn't know how without compromising their balance. They both were part of the problem; he knew himself enough to understand that when mixed with instability, _he _became unstable. Ino's emotions and actions had flung his to far corners. He couldn't be stable in her presence. He had to be separate from her.

"I'm sorry," she said, angrily wiping away the tears, "I just…I hoped that you'd understand what it's like…wishing for someone and not being able to get them. Does that make sense?"

Her point did make sense to him. He was aware of the guilt softening him, and he didn't try suppressing it because here was a situation he'd found himself in a thousand times. But sympathizing with her did not solve their current problem. Twice they'd kissed, and each time he'd had to back away before being burned by the fire.

"It makes sense, yes. But we struggle to maintain a clear, professional line between us. Do you see what I'm saying?" he asked. "I'm not sure that…given our current record…we should continue your training together." He stood and patted her pretty feet. "I'm going. Good luck with your new master."

"Wait! Master!" Ino cried, but he ignored her.

Yamato strode down the hallway and got to the living room before Ino flew out behind him and blocked him from the balcony doors, flinging out her arms. Her eyes were determined, though red-rimmed. His hand print around her throat was livid red.

"I don't understand why we can't make another go of this," she said, sounding more angry over sad. "You owe me another chance after choking me out!"

"I apologize for handling you so roughly." His eyes dropped to her marred neck. The guilt bit harder. "It's because of that overreaction that I'm requesting reassignment. Goodbye."

He used his Wood Release technique to melt into the wooden beams under his feet and pass through the floors and walls to the outside, leaving Ino slacked-jawed in her living room. Evening had fallen. Lady Hokage had probably already closed and locked the doors to the Office, but he'd head over there anyway in case she decided to work late. He'd submit the reassignment request, accept the failure on this mission, and drink in his favorite bar, Leaf Blown, until the cows came home. Sounded like a plan.

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**A/N: **Thanks again for taking the time to read. I hope to see you on Oct. 22 for _Apology._ Have a good week, everyone. =)


	7. Apology

**A/N**: Welcome back, dear readers. I hope you've recovered from Yamato's extremist behavior in the last chapter. Ino will get her revenge, I promise. I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

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**Chapter Seven: Apology**

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Yamato was four beers into his tab- -and contemplating the numbness in his nose and lips- -when a hand clapped on his shoulder and sent a charged tingle down his spine.

"I thought I'd find you here," Kakashi said, hopping onto the bar stool beside him.

Yamato heard his low voice clearly, even over the clinking and volume of music and people talking too loudly. The cigarette smoke draped around Kakashi's shoulders and stank, but Yamato didn't think either of them was here to smell pretty.

"You checked the house 'n' the training grounds?"

"No, actually." Kakashi leaned his elbows on the bar. "Ino paid me a visit."

"Ino, hunh?" Yamato mustered mild amusement. She would be his problem no more. He'd gotten to the Hokage's Tower with plenty of time to fill out the necessary paperwork and submit it to the Hokage's Official Mailbox. Lady Hokage would see it first thing tomorrow mid-morning or afternoon, depending on how hung-over she was. "What'd she want?"

"Are you already drunk?" Kakashi asked instead. He'd sat on the left of Yamato and the hooded eye flicked up and down. Assessing my sanity, Yamato thought. I'm perfectly within my faculties.

"Yeah. Probably. I bet she wanted you to talk me out of re…re"- -the word seemed out of his control- -"reassignment, right? Too late." Yamato finished off the fourth beer. "I've already sh..submitted the request."

"You _what_?"

Yamato had had a pounding headache when he entered the bar, and he found that the smoke and noise exacerbated the pulsing pain in his temple. Not even drunkenness eased it. He threw what he owed in bills on the counter and stood, wobbling precariously on his feet. Kakashi could follow him for once. Yamato wove through the barmaids, other drunk patrons, and tables, shouldering through where his way was blocked and not caring. Outside, his ears rung with the near-silence of late night.

"Tenzou!"

"_Ya…Yamato_," he corrected Kakashi. "I told you before. That other name is private."

"Fine. Yamato," Kakashi said, walking alongside him. "You already submitted a request?"

"Yeah, so what?" Alcohol supplied him with an attitude.

Kakashi chuckled. "Didn't ever take you for a pansy."

Alcohol supplied him with an attitude, and it also made him sweating hot. He took the hotness as being anger, so he wheeled on Kakashi and glared at him. Well, what he could see of Kakashi, who blended in the dark shadows of the buildings, the shock of famous silver-white hair showing in stark relief in the black.

"You don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"I do too. You quit Ino because she stirred you up," Kakashi replied coolly. "You did the same to me all those years ago, and I didn't quit you."

"That's…that's different."

Kakashi grabbed the crook of his arm. "How exactly is it different?

"It _is _because she's…she's," Yamato gestured with a hand trying to work through what he wanted to say, but settled on, "not you. Lemme go."

"No. Not until you tell me how you arrived to the conclusion of quitting in the middle of a job."

"I didn't _quit,_ Captain." Kakashi's grip hurt, and Yamato flexed his arm to loosen Kakashi's hand. His brain turned toward lucidity for a moment. "I made a decision that will probably save both of us a lotta grief."

"What if I told you that your decision will cause _more _grief than had you done your job?"

This conversation was sounding strangely like a reprimand from a commanding officer, and with Kakashi being his closest friend, Yamato did not appreciate the liberty Kakashi took being both a close friend _and _a superior. This was utterly ridiculous. Yamato had decided what was best for both himself and Ino, and now Kakashi seemed set on changing his mind. He did not want to change his mind. Kakashi must've sensed his shift in mindset because the hand on Yamato's arm dropped.

"Look…hear me out," said Kakashi, backing off to give Yamato room. "There's something important you need to know."

Though alcohol coursed through his system, he could tell that Kakashi was, for the moment, being serious. "Okay. Spit it out."

"Ino told me why you were assigned to train her," he said, "and look, can we…find somewhere private to talk about this?"

"Like your apartment, where you can ply me with your good looks and w-wicked charms?" Yamato snapped. "Tell me already."

The tilt of Kakashi's head told of his displeasure, but he answered, "Fine. Lady Hokage hand-picked you because you're the one person who would train Ino seriously."

"Hm." Yamato tapped his chin. "I thought it was because I wouldn't react to her femimimine wiles."

"Lady Hokage didn't tell you that Ino's been through four or five other instructors because none of them considered her ANBU material and wouldn't train her properly. If you request reassignment, Ino might never be promoted to ANBU ranks. And if she is…" Kakashi trailed off, letting Yamato speak the implication.

"She might get killed on a mission because she lacks the necessary skills. Right." Yamato sighed and pressed a couple fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Why didn't she say something to me earlier? Why did she…turn to you?"

"Probably because she felt like you wouldn't believe her. She was very distraught over what happened." Kakashi tapped Yamato's Leaf symbol on his hatsuburi. "I know how stern you can be, so I thought I'd help you change your mind about her."

Yamato groaned and pushed away Kakashi's hand. His head was _killing _him. Ino needed him to train her so she could get promoted to ANBU, and she needed him to believe in her, not leave her flapping in the wind because of some stupid mistakes they _both _made. He felt like an ass for assuming he knew her motivations. First thing in the morning, he'd go back to the Office of the Hokage and retract the request for reassignment.

Kakashi wrapped Yamato's arm over his neck and put one around his waist. They started walking. "I'll help you get home. Anyway, she was more upset that you requested reassignment than how you disciplined her, but be more forgiving, in the future."

"Forgiving's not my problem," Yamato mumbled, but Kakashi heard him anyway.

"Attraction is, right?" Kakashi chuckled and swatted Yamato's hand trying to tug down the mask. "I told you I'd be happy to help with that."

"You're not going to be around all the time to support me," Yamato replied. "And I know I won't be able to stop myself one of these days."

"Keep it together long enough to promote her. Then at least you don't have to worry about being her master."

Yamato snorted. "You want me to bang her, I can tell. But I only have eyes for you." This time Kakashi wasn't quick enough and Yamato managed to hook a finger at the hem of Kakashi's face mask and got it pulled down. "Just as I thought. A smirk. You find humor in my crises."

"I find humor in your nature when you drink too much." Kakashi stopped a second to duck his head to Yamato's. Mouths met in a quick press of lips, a refreshing spark, and then Kakashi adjusted the mask up to his nose. "Wait till we get home, Tenzou. Though you're probably too drunk to be of much use."

The two of them arrived at Yamato's home without further difficulties. Yamato, hanging off Kakashi's shoulder, tripped and stumbled up the stairs, much to Kakashi's entertainment. He needed help with his shirt, which, as he struggled with it over his head, he belatedly realized he hadn't removed his hatsuburi. Kakashi came to his rescue, again, and disentangled Yamato from his shirt. Some kissing followed, Kakashi's hands on his back, spreading across his shoulder blades, a current coming alive inside Yamato and lifting the hairs on his body, but the alcohol proved to be too much of a depressant and Yamato stumbled to bed to pass out.

The next morning, Yamato woke up with cotton mouth, a terrible taste where his tongue should be, and an arm flung across his chest. White hair greeted him. His brain had given him a few seconds worth of time before the headache hammered his temple with renewed rigor. Yamato groaned. He deserved this, he thought, after the shit he put Ino through.

Beside him, Kakashi had taken all the blankets and sheets, and most of the bed sometime last night, so Yamato slithered free and slugged a slow path to the bathroom, where he brushed his teeth first then downed a few aspirin and glasses of water. Then he peed for what felt like five minutes before taking a shower and scrubbing the stink of Leaf Blown out his hair and skin.

Minty fresh and smelling of soap, Yamato determined he felt much better. He had to get going if he was to sneak the request for reassignment out of the Hokage's mailbox, and he had to assure Ino that Kakashi had explained everything and that they'd finish her training and get her promoted.

"You look refreshed," Kakashi said from the bed. His voice sounded scratchy from sleep and he rubbed his eyes. "Going to the Hokage's Office?"

"Yes. And then I have to find a way to make up with Ino." He knew from her file that she worked in a flower shop, so flowers weren't an option since he didn't want to give her flowers with a hidden meaning. Maybe…chocolate? But he didn't know if she liked sweets. "Do you have any ideas for gifts?"

"I know that the more thoughtful the gift, no matter the size or cost, is always the _best_ gift," Kakashi answered, flipping off the covers. His chest was gloriously toned; Yamato felt hit in the gut. "Hang around a few. I'll go with you."

Yamato suddenly remembered Kakashi trying to instigate some romance last night, but he must've…passed out or something. Kakashi crossed the floor- -his mouth quirked and a snapping grey eye pinned Yamato in place- -and looped an arm around Yamato's neck to bring him closer. A jolt shot through Yamato as Kakashi's mouth crushed his, tongue seeking entrance, teeth clicking together. The sensation of electricity hummed inside him, allowing Yamato to access the deeper bond he shared with Kakashi. Yamato put a hand to Kakashi's side, feeling a warm flank of muscle and tendons, tracing up to find ribs, and his mind murmured in discontent that the body wasn't as curved or lush as it should be.

That muddled discontent formed an image of streaming pale hair and eyes reflecting an eternal sky, of a purple leopard print panty-set and of nails painted the colors of the rainbow. Discontent curled smoke around the live wires that Kakashi sent sparking through Yamato's body, and Yamato floundered a moment, stuck between Kakashi and a half-thought of Ino. It was enough.

Kakashi broke from kissing him. "You're hesitating."

"Hunh?" The switch took place too quickly for Yamato to keep up with. "What're you…are you okay?"

Kakashi was looking hard at Yamato, who felt unsettled. "What were you thinking of a second ago?"

"The…" Yamato felt the lie the moment he opened his mouth. "The reassignment request. Why?"

"We should get going then. I don't want you to have to endure any uncomfortable interrogations should Lady Hokage see it."

When Kakashi ruffled Yamato's hair, he felt a separation between them as surely as he saw a great crevasse yawning out at his feet. What had happened? Yamato didn't do anything, did he? He'd taken a second to think about Ino, that was _all._ Kakashi stepped away to gather his clothes from the floor, and reeling, Yamato exited the bedroom to give Kakashi privacy to dress.

Had Kakashi sensed the thought about Ino? He'd said Yamato had hesitated. How'd he hesitate? Was Kakashi…hurt by the hesitation? Maybe it was because Yamato had lied. But Yamato had lied to Kakashi before- -so infrequently, however, that Yamato could count the number of times on one hand- -and that could be why Kakashi drew away emotionally. Yamato couldn't be sure. Kakashi's nonverbal body language was easy enough to decipher, but Yamato never knew what Kakashi was _feeling_. Sure, there were times when they read a situation the same and reacted in their flawless teamwork, but Yamato hardly thought those instances counted since they knew what the other was thinking. Kakashi's feelings were a great, unsolved mystery to Yamato.

Kakashi's footsteps tread the stairs, and Yamato turned to greet him. Kakashi was all arranged, cool, collected. Yamato's chest felt encased by great bands of steel.

Kakashi's stance was relaxed as he rubbed a thumb between Yamato's eyebrows. "You've got a line of anxiety there, Tenzou. What's bothering you _now_?"

"I'm sorry," Yamato blurted. "I'm sorry. I lied. I thought about Ino when you were kissing me."

"Hm," was all Kakashi said, sidestepping Yamato and going over to the backdoor. He slid it open as though nothing unusual had happened. "Ready?"

No apology accepted, no I understand what you're going through, just a damn '_hm_'? Yamato frowned, defeated, and followed Kakashi's back over the property line into the city life of Konoha. He supposed Kakashi had already known about the lie or had expected Yamato's thoughts to be on Ino. Yamato didn't like being predictable, and he certainly didn't like not knowing where he stood in Kakashi's view.

They arrived at the Hokage's Tower for the morning rush. Kakashi distracted Shizune enough for Yamato to use wood jutsu to travel to the backroom unseen and to rifle through the mail in Lady Hokage's box. His fingers had touched the documents, tugging the papers free, when he sensed he'd run out of time.

"Captain Yamato?" Sakura. "What're you doing back here?"

"Oh, Sakura! Hello!" He kept the papers hidden behind his back. "It's good to see you. I didn't realize you were working today with Lady Hokage."

"Yes, well, she said she was backed up and needed some extra hands."

"Is that so?" He moved toward her and consequently, the exit, gesturing with his free hand for her to continue ahead of him. She complied, thankfully. "Shizune let me come back here to check on some papers," he said, trailing Sakura. Kakashi still chatted with Shizune, and as he and Sakura passed, Yamato handed the papers to Kakashi. "I should get going."

Sakura nodded and smiled. "Have a good day, Captain."

"You as well. By the way," he said before she turned away, "between the two of us, what sorts of gifts do you usually get Ino?"

Her brow crunched together, and Yamato covered by saying, "She…wasn't feeling well, and I wanted to get her a feel-better gift. Not a card," he added.

"Ah, hmm," she bit the inside of her cheek, "I'd say probably nail polish. She can't get enough of it."

"Thanks, Sakura. Goodbye." He waved a hand and left.

Why hadn't _he _thought of nail polish? Duh. Ino had a whole freaking _drawer_ dedicated to nail polish. He located a shop, haggled with the shopkeeper about which type of nail polish to buy (K.O.I., the Wind series, Brown Me Away was newest and primo, he was assured) and then over the _price _of a bottle of the stuff. Eventually Yamato coughed up the cash for it, received the nail polish in a complimentary box which saved him the hassle of wrapping it for her. Free from the shopkeeper at last, Yamato headed to Ino's apartment.

He thought he'd be gentlemanly and polite in arriving at the front door, but after five minutes of buzzing and waiting, he performed wood jutsu for a second time that morning and passed through the door into her living space. Everything was how he'd left it last night. Ino's forceful presence seemed absent from here. The subtle, subdued atmosphere caused anxiety to bubble up; Yamato's palms went clammy. She must be in her bedroom.

Swallowing back trepidation, he passed through the shadowed hallway into her bedroom. A thought asked him what he would do if Ino didn't accept his apology, or rather, if she accepted it but exacted revenge on him. She was capable of it…making his life a living hell if she chose. And, he thought, he'd deserve it after what he'd done to her yesterday. He stepped into the bedroom. There, under a pile of covers and mounds of used tissue huddled Ino. She was asleep, but when he neared, she stirred.

"Is…that you, Chou?" Then she woke up a little more and recognized him. "Master. What're you…doing here?"

He took in her blotchy complexion, her bloodshot eyes, her red-worn nose, and knew without asking that she'd been up all night crying. "I'm checking in on you. I thought I was too harsh yesterday and wanted to tell you that I'm not going to request reassignment after all. Here," he added, handing her the box, "I brought you an apology gift. I didn't mean to be an ass and I hope you can forgive me for…wrongly attacking you."

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" Unexpectedly, a bright, relieved smile broke through the ravages of her sorrow like the sun peeking through a veil of clouds. It warmed him. "What did you…?"

The question trailed off when she examined the box. A gasp of surprise. Fingernails scraped the box to get it open then tipped it to slide the bottle into her palm. Another gasp.

"The Wind Series! Brown Me Away!" She laughed, delighted. Her happiness was infectious, and Yamato smiled, pleased that his gift was acceptable. "How'd you know? I don't have any of this series yet! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"If you're up for it, I thought we could get a late start on your training today." His stomach reminded him he hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday. "But we might want to stop somewhere for a quick brunch."

"Yes. Let's," she said, and suddenly energized, surged from the bed. "I need to get around. Would you mind waiting for me?"

"Not a problem."

He stepped out and closed the door behind him. That had been easier than he'd thought. Much easier apologizing to Ino than to Kakashi. Would they be able to put this behind them? Time would tell, Yamato supposed as he meandered the hallway, looking at the pictures that hung on her wall. A large percentage was of Ino and Sakura; when they were younger as children and when they were younger as chuunins. There seemed to be a gap, he noticed, from their Academy days.

Ino's genin team picture was centered on one wall. A place of importance, he mused. A chubby boy with swirls on his plump cheeks- - Akimichi Chouji- -and a thinner, lazy-looking boy- -Nara Shikamaru. Asuma with his cigarette, leaning behind Ino, who smiled brightly. Pictures of her family. Pictures of older versions of Chouji and Ino. There were pictures of others too, familiar faces he'd seen around the village and worked with, almost as if Ino wanted the whole village inside the boundaries of her living space.

Yamato came to the end of the hallway and to satisfy his curiosity, he opened the hall closet. The washer and dryer were located there, one of those stacked versions, and a mix-up of flak jackets, regular jackets, and odds and ends. He noticed some boxes on the shelf overhead, with precise, yet slightly curved, handwriting as labels. Nothing of much interest. He moved to the sparkling kitchen.

Of where she occupied, he discovered the most _Ino_ in her bedroom and here. He found all her plates and glassware matching and in order, colorful like her array of nail polish. Based on the variety of pans, bowls, utensils, and ingredients, he assumed she liked to cook, and when he opened the refrigerator, his jaw dropped. From the top to the bottom she'd crammed in dishes and serving platters, and _they were all labeled._ A fair number had been labeled Chou. Some were to Shika, Sakura, Naruto, and others were labeled Dad.

He heard movement, so he closed the refrigerator door and sat in an armchair, his mind thumbing through his discoveries. The nail polish was for herself, he understood that, but why the fanatical cooking, all for other people? The pictures, too. There was a connection between the overstocked refrigerator and the photographs, but Yamato couldn't see it before Ino came into the living room.

"Ready?" she asked. Her face was clear and radiant; no signs of upset were apparent. Furthermore, she must've healed the bruises his hand left under her jaw. Her throat was perfect pale. He was grateful she didn't wear the bruises like a badge to remind him of his reaction. "Thank you for waiting."

"You don't look like you were crying," he said, to his surprise. "Is that…a jutsu?"

She laughed and flicked her ponytail over her shoulder. "It's called make-up no jutsu. Don't tell me you've never heard of it?"

"I feel like you're the only kunoichi in the world who would put on make-up for a training session."

"As I recall," she said, going to the front door and unlocking the bolts, "we made plans for brunch. Was I mistaken?"

"No, you are not."

"Well, then," she said, waiting as he stepped by her, "I want to put my best face forward. I'm so excited," Ino continued as she locked the door, "for training today. What're we doing?"

As they walked down the hallway together, chatting, Yamato felt like he'd been given another chance to this right. He _would _do this right, and Ino was going to be promoted and she was going to be one of the best ANBU. He'd make sure of it. And he wouldn't make any more mistakes.

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**A/N:** Is Ino too easily forgiving? Hmm...maybe yes, maybe no. As always, I hope you leave your thoughts & comments. _Tricks __Aren't __for __Kids _will be up on Oct. 29th. See you then!


	8. Tricks Aren't for Kids

**A/N:** Welcome back for another chapter of "Behind the Cat's Mask"! Thank you all for your interest, and please, enjoy.

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**Chapter Eight: Tricks Aren't for Kids**

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The weeks turned into months. Yamato had been receiving regular visits from Kakashi to avoid the attraction to Ino, but he often had relapses that were becoming more and more difficult to suppress. He knew he had to keep as separate from Ino as possible, not physically but emotionally, and as far as that was concerned, he kept discovering how relaxed his guard had gotten. It seemed as though no matter how much he thought about staying alert, Ino managed to slip past his defenses.

Speaking of her, Ino had cut a swath, with incredible proficiency, through the curriculum that Yamato had designed. What other instructor couldn't understand how quickly she mastered jutsu? He couldn't see how her potential had been previously overlooked. Yamato was pleased, dare he say proud, with Ino's skill and professional demeanor. She'd completed all her ANBU-style katana training, paralysis jutsu, sealing jutsu, and textbook ANBU procedures for dealing with different classes of criminals. In fact, she'd been so swift in her mastery that Yamato was now experimenting a bit with her chakra natures.

He, himself, had Earth and Water affinity, which, when combined was the Wood Release techniques he'd perfected over the years, and the bloodline limit of the First Hokage. Ino had Water and Fire chakra natures- -which she'd already developed into an impressive set of techniques- -but he could tell she wanted do more with them. With hours of practice, she began using her Water and Fire affinities in tandem with both her ANBU-trained jutsu and mind jutsu, creating powerful new combinations, including one in which she could set a target on fire without having made contact with it. She excelled even with the brutality of the techniques.

On one such day, Ino dropped a technique abruptly- -the super-heated flame barrier dying off, leaving smoking remains of brush and trees- -and turned to him. "Master, I've been thinking."

"Oh?" He noticed her hands were a bright, cherry-red. "What's that?"

"What would happen if we combined our chakra natures together?"

"You mean my Wood technique with your…water or fire?"

She clapped her hands together once, healing the burns as she answered. "No, I was thinking more along the lines of channeling two different people's chakra natures and molding them into an element."

Yamato knew what she meant. "Ah, I see. Because the same thing occurs with the demon vessels. You have the demon's chakra and you have the vessel's chakra. The vessel learns how to control his own chakra and the demon's chakra to use them together for techniques otherwise impossible to control or perform."

"Has any instance of two people working together using each others' chakra to build techniques ever occurred?"

"Like one person channeling another person's techniques?"

"Or a combination of techniques," she said.

Yamato hesitated. Her sudden interest and her casual inquiry alarmed him. Had she been thinking of _them _as compatible enough to attempt to perform something of that magnitude? The risks of performing that sort of jutsu…well, death was the worst-case scenario. But bodies rejected chakra, extreme signing precision would be necessary, along with perfect command over chakra flow. Anything other than perfection would result in serious destruction of the human body and surrounding area.

Ino sighed, putting a hand on her hip. "You're going to say no and that it's too dangerous to attempt."

"Not necessarily." Yamato touched his hand to his mouth. "It _is _dangerous, though I'm not sure if there's any shinobi in Konoha history who've attempted that sort of jutsu."

"So…it _could _be done?"

"Possibly."

She laughed. "_Possibly_ it _could_ be done."

"You'd have to find two shinobi who were highly compatible in strength, chakra control, and mind set, not to mention one of them would have to be able to channel the huge amount of chakra…all without dying."

"Hm." Ino looked contemplative. "Interesting."

"Have all your questions been answered?" he asked, not liking the direction he felt her thinking had taken. "I suggest we focus our energy on polishing your current techniques."

Surprisingly enough, she let the subject drop for that day, though he could tell she was thinking about it. Then as they met the next morning, Ino said, "I know I'm on your training schedule and everything, but is there anyway I could have tomorrow free?"

For months she'd been training, every day up before dawn, leaving at dusk, giving it her best and never complaining, and she wanted a single day free? Yamato was used to hard-core shinobi, but even they needed some time to recharge.

"I think that'll be acceptable," he said. And nothing more was discussed of the matter.

On Ino's day off, Yamato wasn't sure what to do. He woke up at his usual ungodly hour, brewed some coffee, and puttered around the house for a few hours. He wasn't even aware that he'd been thinking about Ino when he realized he never asked _why _she wanted the day off. Stupid. He remembered the easy way she'd dropped the super-combo jutsu conversation, not even arguing with him for not talking more about it. Was she…was she using today to research it?

Not that it alarmed him that she was curious. No, not at all, but she'd want to attempt it with someone, _him_, and he didn't think this type of technique was appropriate for them. If the demon and demon vessel analogy was accurate, the two people wielding that jutsu had to be connected in a deep, multilevel way. With Ino's mind techniques, she could make a mental connection to him that would allow her to channel his chakra and mold hers to accentuate his. Such a technique would require him to trust her absolutely. But maybe he was jumping to conclusions and besides, in another few months, she was going to be his partner. Maybe he should try acting like her partner?

Idiot, he thought. She needs a teacher. Someone with experience and the wherewithal to tell her no when she was being reckless, and performing a dangerous jutsu constituted as reckless, especially when it should be the least of her concerns at this point. After she'd mastered her elemental affinities and a few staple techniques, he needed to help her with a body-destruction jutsu. All ANBU, if they were dying or unable to escape certain death, were required to use body-destruction jutsu. So there was that. They didn't have time to be messing around with...theoretical jutsu.

Now he needed to know if his assumptions were correct. He dressed, put the coffee mug in the sink, and traveled over rooftops through town to the Konoha Library. The place had a variety of shinobi, mostly Academy students, and when he asked the front clerk if she'd seen a striking blonde woman with blue eyes, she shrugged and adjusted her glasses. He pressed her with a more accurate description, but the librarian looked at him blankly enough that he gave up and explored the library on his own.

He figured the topic would be under the Jutsu Techniques section, and he scanned up and down the rows for likely titles. Several gaps between volumes indicated a few books had been checked out or were in use, so Yamato hit a dead end there. Coincidental? Hah. In the shinobi world, coincidences did not exist. The missing textbooks confirmed what he'd thought all along.

He decided to find Ino and see what she was up to. Unless he was making up this whole thing in his head, Ino _must _be researching that topic. She must've realized he'd want to stop her or redirect her energies, so had covered her tracks to make it harder for him to discover what she was doing. That meant she'd not go back to her apartment, but she'd hunker down somewhere he wasn't familiar with. She'd taken what looked liked several volumes of textbooks. She'd need space to spread out without standing out or without everyone seeing what she was doing.

The hospital or a café would be convenient and give her cover. The hospital had private conference rooms she'd be familiar with, and a café where Academy students frequented would make sense. She could've also realized that he'd deduced these two places and picked somewhere even more obscure, such as a friend's house. Sakura would be her likeliest choice, or one of her teammates from previous years.

Wait. Wait, wait. Ino was too clever for her own good. Where would be the very least, most impossible place that he'd look? The _library._ Son of a bitch, he'd probably walked right by her. If the librarian didn't recognize Ino based on description, it meant Ino could've used a transformation jutsu. Motivated, Yamato began to carefully explore the sitting and study areas. He'd gone up a floor when he found pink hair and a red uniform.

"Sakura!" He began crossing the floor to her when she didn't hear him. "Sakura?"

She startled some and turned in her seat. "Oh." She cleared her throat. "Captain Yamato. Hello!"

"What are you working on?" he asked, taking a seat across from her.

Sakura's smile was friendly when she said, "Sexually transmitted infections. Did you know that running, pus-filled blisters on the reproductive organs indicate an aggravated case of gonorrhea?"

He winced and stopped trying to sneak a look at the textbook she had opened in front of her. "Fascinating. Have you seen Ino here today?"

"Ino?" She shook her head. Yamato thought he caught a waft of flower. "Nope. Why are you looking for her?"

"I'm concerned she may be investigating a jutsu technique that is beyond her current skill level."

"Oh? That's," her face worked for a moment before settling on a smirk, "something she'd do, hunh?"

He was definitely getting an odd vibe from Sakura at the moment. "Yes. I'm sure she's _capable _of it, just not…right now."

"Aah," she answered. "You have other plans for her training."

"You _are_ aware of her training, then? I wasn't sure when you showed up with her on her first day."

"Hm-hm. Lady Hokage let me in on the secret," Sakura whispered, putting a finger to her lips. "Even though she wasn't supposed to, she thought it best that Ino have some support."

Yamato's hand snapped out before he could actually register what he'd seen. Sakura's wrist was in his hand, and her nails were painted a gold-sparkling brown. He recognized that nail polish instantly as Brown Me Away by K.O.I. When had Sakura _ever _painted her nails?

"I know what you're going to say," she said, anticipating him. "Ino got to me before you did and wanted to show off your gift. I let her paint my nails before coming here. I…hadn't seen her in such a long time."

He released her hand when her green eyes softened to sadness. Some guilt welled up. For a second, he'd thought he'd been talking to Ino disguised as Sakura, not Sakura. "I can tell you that she's doing quite well."

"Is she? I'm happy to hear that. Lady Hokage always looks forward to your reports."

"How is Naruto's new technique?"

"It's coming along. Master Kakashi hasn't said anything to you about it recently?" Sakura tilted her head, and he couldn't help the nagging thought that the angle of her chin looked exactly like Ino's. "I thought he told you everything that goes on with us. Listen, Captain," she said, smoothing out the pages of the book, "I need to get this research done. I may have a patient who needs treatment for this."

Yamato had overstayed his welcome with her. "I understand. Best of luck."

"Thanks," she replied. Then, "And good luck with Ino. She's incredibly stubborn."

"Hm. Doesn't even half cover it," he said, as a joke. "See you later."

Sakura's jaw slackened, and what looked like irritation narrowed her eyes, but she recovered with a smile and said, "Yeah. See you later."

He exited the library, at a loss. Did he really want to spend his whole day searching Konoha for Ino? So what if she researched the combination jutsu? She could be as informed as she liked, but if she was planning on involving him, he could say no and work on her affinity techniques some more. Shrugging, he decided to check on Naruto and Kakashi. Maybe he could be of use to them.

Traveling a second time over the rooftops, Yamato dropped into Naruto's favored training grounds. He heard shouting, a low impact, and the rumble of earth breaking apart. Carefully, Yamato approached the noise. Divots of earth scattered through the area; pits created from incredible strength. Then he broke the treeline and saw a pink-haired ninja wearing red surrounded by Naruto's clones. Sakura.

The implication struck him like a bolt of lightning. She'd played him. _Ino had fucking played him._ Jaw clenched, he spun on his heel and flat-out sprinted back the library. He was not normally a guy who got pissed off. And he wasn't really angry that Ino was going about her research. His blood boiled because she did it _behind his back._ She had sat there, disguised as Sakura, instead of coming out and telling him what she was doing. He'd bought it. He'd completely, totally bought it.

Before he came in range of Ino's sensory perception, he created a wood clone and sent it sneaking into the wood walls of the library, as he flew through the entrance doors and dashed up the stairs to the second floor. When he slammed into the study area, 'Sakura' was hunched over her books, working quietly. He strode over to her and yanked her out of the seat by her shoulder. The entire scene, the pile of books, Sakura, disappeared in a puff of smoke. Ino had escaped the library, but he'd find her and give her a piece of his mind.

Fueled by his anger, Yamato scoured Konoha for Ino and could not find her again. He checked the library top to bottom, and even with the help of several more wood clones, searching all the likely places took his entire day. So at twilight, he deigned that she'd won this round and he'd have his words with her tomorrow morning and punish her accordingly.

When he stepped on his property, he sensed an intruder; adrenaline pumping hard, he approached his house, allowed himself to mesh with the wood to check inside. Spread out on the dining room table were open books and pages of notes, and in the kitchen was Ino. Unbelievable. If he'd been feeling like a fool for letting her slip through his fingers a first time, he felt a hundred times more so for not realizing that _his own fucking home _was the most obscure hiding place she could've run to.

He observed her for a moment, realizing that she hadn't sensed him. She wore civilian clothing, a pair of shorts and a sleeveless shirt, and instead of a ponytail, her hair hung in a thick braid down her back. She was in the middle of stirring something in a pot that smelt fantastic, and when he rose from the floor behind her, he grabbed her arm.

"_Holy shit_!" she gasped. The wooden spoon clattered to the floor.

Yamato caged her against the counter, forcing her to face his anger. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I'm sorry," she said. She at least understood enough of his mood to avoid being coy. "But I wanted to know more. Is that so wrong?"

"I don't care about the stupid research." He could fucking _smell _her and the flower perfume, and the anger that had kept him going inexplicably washed away. "Why didn't you just tell me what you were doing?"

"You would've wanted me to stop, and I know I would have," she answered. She pressed a hand to his chest. His heart thumped against her palm. "Give me some room."

He did and leaned back on the opposite counter. "What do you mean you would have?"

Ino reached down for the wooden spoon she dropped and tossed it into the sink, and then grabbed another one from the jar of them on the counter. "I can't say no to you."

No. No, no, _no._ She was _not _turning this back on him. "That's ridiculous. And I can see you're cooking in my…" He trailed off, his brain clicking another piece of the puzzle in place. She'd cooked for him twice before. Her offerings of food were apologies, or maybe love-gifts for those people she cared for. That would make sense.

"Cooking in your…?" she prompted. A timer dinged. "Ah! Chicken's done!"

"My point is to please don't sneak around behind my back," he said as she leaned over- -her ass high in the air- -and grabbed a pan from the oven. Heat rolled through the kitchen, through _him_. But he moved back and observed her from a distance. Whatever she'd done made the chicken look crispy and golden-brown. "What is that?"

"Something I think you'll like. Try the sauce?" she asked, putting the chicken on a pot holder to the side. "I think you're upset that I distracted you into spending your whole day running around Konoha looking for me."

He had taken a taste of the sauce. Oh! It was buttery and herby and so good. "Hmm. Well, yes, there's that," he answered, trying to summon that irritation from wherever it'd receded to. He noticed she had out the rice cooker. "Rice, too?"

"Yeah. And dessert's in the fridge." She smiled at him, her cheeks rosy, and how could he possibly stay angry with her? "Do you mind getting out the plates and glasses? I'll clear off the table."

She left the kitchen. He stared for a moment at his stack of dishes in the cabinet. Ino had gone behind his back, tricked him, caused him to search the whole of Konoha, had invaded his home, a _second_ time, and he was getting the dishes for her. Please explain this to me, someone, he thought, grabbing two plates, and then when his land-sensors signaled him, a third plate. Great. Kakashi had to invite himself over _now,_ with ever-perceptive Ino on the prowl. Even if Sakura, Naruto, and Sai didn't pick up on the subtle clues jumping between Yamato and Kakashi, _Ino _would, and she was the one most likely to want to know more.

The backdoor slid open. "Yo, Tenz…" Kakashi had obviously seen Ino.

"Welcome, Captain," Yamato said, the same time Ino said, "Hello, Master Kakashi!"

Yamato didn't need to see Kakashi's mouth to know it had bowed into a smirk. Dammit. He bet Ino would talk about the combination jutsu, to which Kakashi would add his compelling two cents and encourage them to at least _try _it. It would be two against one, and of course, Kakashi would volunteer to help if they needed it. So now Yamato looked forward to juggling both Kakashi and Ino, and perhaps not just tonight, but during a few sessions of training. Why was nothing ever easy?

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**A/N:** So, I think that all of you will enjoy the dynamic between those three in the next chapter, _Dinner and Kissing for Dessert, _out to you on Nov. 5th. See you then!


	9. Dinner and Kissing for Dessert

**A/N: **Welcome back, dear readers and fellow lurkers. I hope last week went well for all of you, and that you enjoy the newest addition to the story. =)

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**Chapter Nine: Dinner and Kissing for Dessert**

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Yamato could tell, as he set the table, that Ino and Kakashi were exchanging nonverbal communication, judging each other and coming to all the wrong conclusions. Then as Kakashi pulled out a chair at the table, Ino clucked at him from the kitchen where she was doling everything into serving platters and bowls.

"Nuh-uh, Master Kakashi," she said with a mischievous smile, "no hitai-ates and flak jackets at the dinner table." To his quizzical expression, she added, "House rules."

Yamato glared at Ino for being presumptuous, but Kakashi shrugged and sauntered to the front hall where Yamato usually kept his spare hatsuburi and flak jackets. Slightly wrong-footed, now that Kakashi had so easily complied with Ino's request, Yamato followed him to the hall.

"What're you doing?" he asked in hushed tones to Kakashi.

Kakashi drew down the cloth from his nose to his chin; lips had peeled back into a clever smile. "The lady of the house requested that there be no flak jackets and hitai-ates at the dinner table."

For some reason, this completely riled Yamato. "She is _not_ the lady of this house!"

The stupid smile split into a magnificent grin. "Maybe not according to you, but she's fitting right into the role, isn't she?"

As Yamato balked at Kakashi's implication, Kakashi removed Yamato's hatsuburi from his brow and hung it on a prong in the wall. Yamato knew Kakashi brushed his hands on the sides of his face on purpose and it _wasn't _appreciated.

"Please don't encourage her," Yamato said, stopping Kakashi's fingers from handling the zipper on his jacket. "She's difficult enough to control as it is."

Kakashi chuckled and shed his own flak jacket, saying nothing as he hung it on the peg, and then unknotting his own forehead protector to fold it up and tuck it into a pocket. All that silver-white hair fell across Kakashi's face in an appealing manner, yet with just this casual undess, Yamato felt distraught, and he didn't understand why.

"Stop resisting and hang up your jacket, Tenzou," Kakashi said. He made it seem like a friendly suggestion, but the tone was commanding.

Now Yamato understood his feelings of distress. Control had been relinquished to someone else and Yamato, as subordinate as he was, allowed that capitulation to happen. He could balance the power between the other two separately, but when they were together, they proved to be a force too powerful for Yamato to handle by himself. He felt like he should fight or struggle or argue but knew if he did, he'd look childish.

His best bet would be to roll with the punches, since there was no stopping Kakashi and Ino once they got it in their heads to go through with something anyway; past experiences with Kakashi made that truth evident, and today's lovely hassle with Ino also proved the truth. Give him arguing, bickering Team 7 plus Sai any day over these two in the same room together.

Chagrinned, Yamato hung up his flak jacket, and he heard Ino and Kakashi murmuring. Whatever they were saying was too low for Yamato to differentiate, but he did hear a laugh from Kakashi and Ino giggling.

When Yamato turned the corner, he saw that Ino had rearranged the place settings so that she and Kakashi sat across from each other, and Yamato's setting was at the head of the table between them. All the food had been placed on the table, and it looked like Ino had poured them drinks, garnished with lemon and orange slices over the rims of the glasses. She beamed at him when he sat.

"Let's eat," she said, and served him a huge helping of the rice and the chicken. It was too late to protest. "Kakashi?"

Kakashi held up his plate for her, and as Ino looked down to manage the food, he mouthed 'lady of the house' to Yamato. That bastard. Yamato scowled in response, which caused Kakashi's shoulders to shake with suppressed laughter. Yamato knew he was in trouble, and it was only Kakashi who was teasing him now.

Everyone had been served rice, chicken, and sauce. Forks and knives worked together to cut apart the chicken. Quiet eating ensued, and Yamato's taste buds screamed in delight with the deliciousness of Ino's cooking. He tried and failed to keep from 'hming' after each delectable bite. And Ino…Ino opened her mouth and began conversation, which Yamato had knownfrom the start would happen.

"So, Master," she said to him, "are you interested in hearing what I found out about the combination jutsu?"

"You mean the research you did behind my back?" Yamato answered before he could help it. This topic, at least, he could resist talking about. "I don't think so."

"What combination jutsu research?" Kakashi asked. "And behind your back?"

Yamato glared at Ino. "It's nothing. Just a passing curiosity, isn't it?"

"You know it _can _be done," she said. She ignored his glare. "We'd need to build up to it."

"We're not talking about this," _in front of Kakashi,_ Yamato wanted to add. Meaningfully pointing his laden fork at her, he said instead, "House rules."

Before he could draw away, she caught his wrist, lowered her head, and took the bite of chicken off the fork, dragging her teeth along the tines, in a slow tease. His breath got caught up in his chest. Her touch seared the imprint of her fingers in his skin. Her blue eyes were seductive, and she chewed with a 'what will you do?' curve to her mouth, dammit, _testing _him in front of Kakashi.

Half of him wanted to let her get away with it because calling attention to her action would draw speculative looks from Kakashi and God only knew what opinions later. But the other half wanted to address it because she shouldn't be instigating smoldering looks and touches in front of other people. Really, it was quite rude and crossed the line he'd very clearly drawn.

"Let me guess," Kakashi said, interrupting Yamato's bristling, "you two are trying to figure out a way to combine your chakra natures into a single jutsu."

Yamato had _known _something like this would happen. "Like I said, we're not discussing it. And it's not 'we two' anything."

But Kakashi's guess rolled the ball forward. "Actually," said Ino, scooping some rice from her plate, "I wasn't thinking all of them, but what would happen if we combined two of our affinities. I think three affinities might be pushing it too far."

"The _concept _is pushing it too far," Yamato said.

Kakashi had his eye on Ino. "What did your research say?"

Of course Kakashi would plunge ahead without heeding Yamato's warning. Ino's attention was all on Kakashi, and Yamato fell silent, allowing the inevitable flow of conversation to happen. She explained all about how she'd been thinking about how her jutsu could connect her to someone enough that they could eventually share chakra and therefore, jutsu. Yamato's analysis of Ino's thinking proved correct. As she spoke, it became apparent she wanted to try the combination jutsu with him, and of course, Kakashi nodded and said he'd love to supervise a session or two to see what happened and to give pointers.

Ino finished by saying, "But that all depends on Master. Would you be willing to try this jutsu with me after we finish all my ANBU-oriented curriculum? I know I still have to learn a body-destruction jutsu."

A pair and a half of intense eyes landed on him. He felt like a curtain had swept open in front of him, blinding him with floodlights and a bout of stage fright. Sudden nerves aside, if he said no, there'd be an argument two-to-one about why he _should_ try the jutsu with her, and he'd have to give uncomfortable reasons why. If he said yes, he was still stuck with Ino too close and too much inside his head for his comfort anyway. Like all good shinobi, Yamato decided stalling was the best tactic.

"We'll see how well you complete your current lessons, and then we'll go from there," he answered finally.

But Kakashi had another smirk on his mouth. "So you never answered my other question. Why was it behind your back?" This to Yamato.

Ino sprang from the table and gathered their dishes in a show of busyness. "I'll get dessert and coffee around."

"I feel that this will be a good story," said Kakashi, with a smugness that Yamato hated.

"I didn't want her researching the combination jutsu, since it wasn't relevant to her current training, but she went ahead and did it anyway."

"Hn," Kakashi grunted. "I phrased the question incorrectly. What I meant was _how _did she go behind your back?"

Yamato didn't want to talk about how she'd out-ninja'd he, Tenzou of the Wood Release Technique, ANBU Assassination Corps Cell 1, but Kakashi would press and press until Yamato revealed the intricate details of Ino's tactics. At this point, he had a choice of which details to include.

"Fine." Yamato sighed, slumping as he gave in to Kakashi's will. "She used transformation jutsu to become Sakura and threw me completely off her trail. After I realized my mistake, I searched everywhere I could think of, but she'd snuck in _here _and that's where I found her."

Kakashi's lapse into silence lasted until Ino brought in their dessert (some sort of cold mousse) and their coffee. Yamato noticed that she'd picked up on the tense quiet, so she didn't say anything as she dipped her spoon into the chocolate fluff then licked it off. Kakashi's eye was on her for a few moments before flicking back to Yamato.

"Were you upset that she had used a transformation jutsu when you showed up to stop her?" Kakashi asked.

Where was he going with this? Yamato said, "Not upset, but…aggravated."

"I told you why I used a disguise," Ino interrupted quietly. She'd set down the spoon and toyed with the coffee cup. "You wanted to stop me, and I would have let you. I kept trying to see if you'd pick up on the clues. The nail polish was the most obvious mistake I could think of."

The hairs on Yamato's arm prickled with the subtle change in atmosphere, and it took Kakashi to speak what was gathering in Yamato's mind. "Are you saying…that you intended for him to catch you?"

"Yes! Okay? _Yes,_" she emphasized, pushing away from the table. To Yamato, she said, "I felt horrible about the idea of tricking you, so I stayed at the library and disguised myself as Sakura, waiting for you to show up and _catch me_! But each lie I told you, you believed! So thanks to you, I nearly died of guilt waiting here to apologize."

"If you knew you'd feel so guilty about it then why'd you follow through with the transformation jutsu?" Her explanation was nonsense to him. She'd wanted to research the jutsu, but she felt guilty for taking the day off and conducting the research against his wishes. She _knew_ he'd come looking for her, so why the extra trick? If she'd wanted to apologize to him, she could've done that at the library and saved him a whole day of righteous indignation. "I fail to see why a transformation jutsu was necessary if you _wanted _me to tell you to stop."

"Children, children," Kakashi said. To Yamato's irritation, he'd gotten out _Icha Icha Paradise_ and had it open on the table. Porn! On the table! "Must you argue? The facts are that the research is completed, Ino's sorry, and dinner was tasty. Move on."

Yamato glanced from Kakashi to Ino. They stared at each other for a couple seconds, before she shrugged and scooted back to the table. Quietly, they ate their dessert and drank the coffee. Kakashi continued reading his book. Ino giggled after a couple scoops of her mousse, and her playfulness seemed to have returned.

"Say, Kakashi," she said, "has Sakura ever seen under the mask?"

After her coy comment, the mood shifted back to normalcy; Kakashi and Ino joked back and forth. Then Yamato helped Ino wash the dishes as Kakashi hung out at the table with his nose in his book. He'd made no move to cover his face or to further tease Yamato about Ino. When they'd replaced the last of the dishes, Kakashi stood and crossed the floor to the hall in a silent signal that he wished to depart.

Yamato and Ino followed him, standing back as he knotted the hitai-ate and shrugged into his flak jacket, and it was when Kakashi reached out his hand for Ino's- -drawing her nearer him- -that all Yamato's alarms went off that Kakashi was up to something.

"Dinner was wonderful," Kakashi told her as he swiped back her bangs. "Thank you."

Then, easy as you please, he leaned down and kissed her full on the mouth. Kakashi lingered too long, circling his arm around her waist, and as Yamato stood watching the kiss happen, his insides twisted. Temptation rose to fling them apart into separate spaces and use Wood Release to do it, but as he worked up the gumption to say something, Kakashi broke the kiss and stepped away from her.

Ino stood in the middle of the hallway, dazed. Then Kakashi grinned, a quick-attack of white teeth, and before Yamato could think to evade, he was yanked into a hard kiss as well. The air crackled around them, emotions alive and hopping between them. After a few seconds that were entirely too short an amount of time, Kakashi let go, opened the door, and lazily walked down the front stairs.

Yamato and Ino watched him leave without saying anything. The kiss had melted his brain into mush. He could think of nothing but Kakashi's lips on his.

When Kakashi disappeared between the trees, Ino said from behind him, quietly, "Is it always like…you know…sticking your tongue in a light socket?"

He could hear how dazed she still was, and he could relate. Yamato closed the front door and leaned against it, closing his eyes wearily. Kakashi and Ino had worn him out.

Yamato sighed. "More like standing in the middle of a lightning storm."

"I feel like we should ground ourselves," she said.

He didn't catch her drift until she wrapped her arms around his neck and smoothly fitted her mouth over his; by then it was too late. Kakashi had obliterated Yamato's defenses, blown the walls into nothing but rubble, and Ino paraded with full fanfare into the destruction. Her mouth was cool and tasted of chocolate, not of Kakashi, and Yamato inhaled sharply when her tongue slipped along his, spreading a blaze into his chest and gut. Her fingers ran through his hair as her lovely body allowed for no space between them; his hands found the small of her back, the rounded curves of womanly hips. What shuddered in the back of his mind was aggressive and potent, stoking that infinite blaze into a roaring inferno. The beast had a name and it was Lust.

He could feel Lust bowing to her, the conquering queen, as she snapped away his scruples one by one by one. Outside, standing at his shoulder, he heard his cool-headed self explain all the reasons why he should shove her off him, but then Ino would change the kiss or moan from her throat or rub against him in a way that made him ache to the bones, and the Yamato that was reasonable, necessary, _in control,_ would fade into the background and become nothing but a whisper. And as his very last scruple flexed to the breaking point, the kiss turned gentle, caring, light, and tapered into a slow withdrawal of her mouth.

Her eyes had closed and she opened them, like opening curtains to windows that looked out on all that was miraculous in life, and Yamato's heart galloped in his chest, unwilling to slow even the slightest. His mind was completely focused on breathing, not slumping down to his weakened knees, and the painful throbbing in his groin.

"I think that takes care of it," she said cradling his face. Her thumbs traced the sensitive skin under his eyes. "For the record, that was neither flirting nor seduction."

He licked his lips, tried twice but failed to speak before he stuttered out, "Wha…wha?"

"It was an experiment." Her lips were curved with a familiar smirk. "I wanted to prove that we'd be compatible enough to share jutsu."

"You…I…that's…"

And Yamato gave up trying to string together a coherent sentence. Ino giggled and released him from her hands to spin on her heel to the couch in the living room. She'd placed all her research materials in a shoulder bag when she'd cleaned off the dining room table. The bag bulged and settled on her shoulder heavily, but Ino moved gracefully under the extra weight. He felt himself recovering from the double-whammy suffered from Kakashi's kiss then Ino's kiss. At least, his breathing and heart rate had calmed. His brain hadn't yet comprehended what happened.

"I'll see you bright and early tomorrow, Master," she said, kissing her fingertips. Before she left, she rested the kissed fingertips on his mouth. "Goodbye."

As soon as Ino left the house, Yamato's sense of reality returned. He berated himself for not stopping Kakashi or Ino from doing whatever they wanted, but he mainly blamed Kakashi for encouraging Ino along a path of indiscretion. All that indignation he'd worked up over Ino's tricks stepped forward and that indignation also returned his capacity to think, enough for Yamato to decide to confront Kakashi about his behavior during dinner.

Yamato yanked on his hatsuburi and flak jacket and flew over the rooftops to Kakashi's apartment, feet hardly touching the cement and wood. The apartment building was labeled 'efficiency suites', which meant that there was enough room for a bed, a couch, and not much else. The bathroom was essentially standing-room only. On the way over, Yamato considered exactly what he wanted to say to Kakashi, and if that's what he _actually_ said remained to be seen.

Kakashi opened the door on the first buzz. "Tenzou!" he said, and Yamato relished the surprise that lilted his voice. "Miss me already?"

"Cut the jokes," Yamato snapped, brushing by Kakashi and shutting the door firmly. "Do you know what you did? I spent months, Hatake, _months,_ avoiding an incident and in a single evening all my hard work goes up in smoke. You _had _to see what would happen if you tipped the scales, didn't you?"

Yamato shoved Kakashi a little, and Kakashi backed away under the onslaught. "Now Ino's got it set in stone that I'm perfect for her little experiment with the combination jutsu. Can you _see _the irony, Hatake? I'm _her _fucking experiment!"

"Tenzou," Kakashi said. His hands rose in supplication. "I'm…"

"Shut up." Yamato punctuated his command with another shove. He'd backed Kakashi to the wall, surprised somewhat that Kakashi didn't fight back. "I don't want to be apologized to. I'm _tired _of being apologized to. In fact, I would much rather be _listened _to."

Yamato planted an arm to the wall over Kakashi's shoulder, cutting off escape, and with his free hand, ridded Kakashi of anything covering his face. Kakashi allowed Yamato to do so, who did not like that it took acting psychotic to get this submissive response.

"Here's what you're going to do," Yamato continued to Kakashi's bared face. "_You_ are going to visit Ino at the ANBU training grounds tomorrow morning, and _you_ are going to explain to her just how dangerous of a thing this combination jutsu really is. You are not going to let her talk around the issue. You're going to tell her that it's not such a good idea after all."

Yamato paused to mash his mouth on Kakashi's, shoving his hand under the tight net shirt to the plane of hot, smooth skin that was Kakashi's stomach. He felt muscles leap and flex under his fingertips, the spark of static electricity ever present. A shimmer of Ino tainted Yamato's mind, but anger clouded over it.

Yamato broke the kiss to whisper into Kakashi's ear, "And you will never, _ever_ kiss me in front of another person again. Understood?"

To hone his point, Yamato clipped Kakashi's lobe with his teeth. Mumbling an affirmative or expletive- -which Yamato didn't know, didn't care- -Kakashi shivered and put his hands on Yamato's nape. Yamato's hand rubbed over a pebbled nipple and spread fingers across a hardened slab of muscle, Kakashi's rapid heartbeat like that of a bird under his palm. That's all Yamato needed to surge him forward into Kakashi more, and to accept that Kakashi was apologetic and would attempt to skirt the combination jutsu with Ino.

It would have to do.

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**A/N:** Thanks again for reading, and please, if you have them, let me know questions and concerns. I'm always eager to converse with readers. Look forward to next week's chapter, _Growing Stronger, _to be published on Nov. 12th. Until then!


	10. Growing Stronger

**A/N: **Hello, everyone. Glad to see you're back and ready for the next installment of this story. Please, enjoy!

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**Chapter Ten: Growing Stronger**

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Yamato managed to get Kakashi up and around, threatening death and the silent treatment if he didn't move his ass to get to the ANBU training grounds on time. With Kakashi dressed and semi-conscious, they leapt over roofs and through trees. The exertion must've woken Kakashi because before they crested the last wave of roofs, he stuck out his hand to brush Yamato's shoulder.

"We should divide up here," Kakashi said, "and approach her from different directions and times."

"I don't think it matters anymore whether she sees us together or not."

Kakashi sighed. "Have it your way."

Together, they landed in front of the training grounds. Ino was not present. Yamato turned to the front gates to unseal them and discovered they'd already been unsealed and unlocked. Kakashi drew up beside him as he pushed open the doors. They creaked and the immediate area inside the training grounds was hushed. A chill ran down Yamato's back. He recognized the stillness in the dark as anticipation.

"Do you think she…?" he half-asked Kakashi.

Kakashi crouched, uncovering his Sharingan. "Yep." He readied his fingers to mold chakra. "Ready? Looks like she's been waiting for us."

Her explosive attack came the split-second they crossed under the front gates and didn't relent. He and Kakashi worked together, but even then, Ino eluded them. After a few hours, Yamato sank, panting, against a tree, his outer-shirt soaked in sweat and chakra system singing from overuse. He'd lost track of Kakashi- -due to a precision ninjutsu attack from hell- -and he had no idea where Ino had holed up in this godforsaken place. She'd kept herself carefully concealed as she drove attack after attack into them, using the entirety of the forest from the forest hawks to dire panthers. He'd never imagined how much she'd grown in skill.

A gentle _swish_ was about as much warning as he got. Yamato ducked a slew of kunai and melted into a tree trunk, spiraling up into the branches to peek out in an attempt to discover her location. The hiss jerked his attention to a gigantic tree adder swaying to and fro with fangs bared, body curled around a large branch.

The blink-of-an-eye strike startled him enough to leap out of the wood with shiruken slotted between his fingers, ready to fling them with deadly accuracy. When he landed, he realized something was seriously wrong because the giant snake that he'd _just seen _was no longer there. It took several seconds for his brain to catch up to the fact that he couldn't move. Fuck. Paralysis jutsu coupled with a genjutsu. Ino'd gotten him.

"I'd wondered if I could scare you out with a snake," she said in his ear. He hadn't heard her approach, but he felt her fingers dip under the high collar of his shirt to the back of his neck. "You'll wake up in a few hours."

A sizzle of chakra. Then his world went black.

Yamato bolted upright. What…was…? What was that? He swore he had heard something. The room he was in was cool and dark, his sweat a sticky film over his skin. He didn't recognize where he was. Had he been dreaming the dry rustle? The slithering of scales over tile? He breathed to quiet his thumping heart and stood up. The room was small and by stretching out his arms, his fingertips brushed the opposite walls. A couple feet away was a door; light shed from the crack at the bottom.

Murmuring. Yamato clicked open the door. Kakashi reclined in a cot, his wrist in Ino's hands as she wrapped a bandage between his fingers and up his forearm. She smiled as she said something to him. A single overhead lamp illuminated the area. Both looked disheveled and worn and glanced over when Yamato stepped into the larger room- -it seemed they'd found another emergency station. Ino rested Kakashi's hand on his stomach.

"Master," she said. She moved toward him with a worried frown darkening her face. "I hope you don't mind. I wanted to see how far I'd come."

Yamato wasn't sure what he felt when she stood in front of him; he wasn't angry, and she was breathtaking in beauty and power. He stroked back strands of hair that had fallen across her face before he could stop himself. An emotion soared up inside his chest, strong and glowing.

"I'm so very proud of you," he said. "Body-destruction jutsu aside, you're ready for promotion."

Her eyes went wide, and she tried speaking but nothing seemed to escape her mouth except for a few quick breaths. Then those bluest eyes shimmered and tears poured over her cheeks and dripped down her chin, leaving clean streaks in the dust and dirt on her skin.

She put a hand to her face. Her grin shined through her tears. "Thank you, that makes me so happy." Then, turning to Kakashi, she said, "Did you hear that? I'm going to be promoted!"

Kakashi smiled at her through the cloth over his mouth and nose (Yamato could tell after years of studying him) and nodded. "I agree. ANBU will become even stronger with you in its ranks."

Ino rubbed her eyes then straightened her shoulders. "Thank you. It's important to me to be strong. I won't disappoint you." She shook back her ponytail. "I'll get some lunch made. There's a kitchenette here that I found and there should be some provisions stocked. You two rest here."

Yamato's first instinct was to stop her so _she_ could rest, but he needed the time to discuss her with Kakashi. She left the room through another door and he heard her moving around, opening and closing cabinets. Kakashi stretched back on the cot, his bandaged arm contrasting the black shirt as Yamato plopped into a nearby chair.

"I know what you're going to say," Kakashi said, "and the answer is that I defeated her with the Sharingan. She was intelligent enough to keep her signs hidden from me, strong enough to avoid the Chidori, and aggressive enough to disallow me time to strategize."

Yamato leaned forward on his knees. "I can't believe her progression. I've never seen someone pick up ANBU training so quickly. It feels…surreal."

"I think you're forgetting about us. We both trained and were accepted into ANBU quickly."

"Yes," Yamato said, "but look at who we are. I've got the First Hokage's bloodline limit, and you're the son of the White Fang _and _a possessor of the Sharingan. Not to mention you're a prodigy. Of course _we're _going to fly through training procedures and new jutsu. But Ino…she's…regular. Normal."

Kakashi chuckled. "Maybe not as normal as we'd like to think. She did give us a run for our money. I haven't had to work so hard to survive since…well, Pein. And he was _trying _to kill me."

"And she's going to get even better. She'll surpass us. I can feel it." Yamato looked over to Kakashi. "But after the body-destruction jutsu, there isn't anything left to teach her."

"I disagree."

Yamato knew instantly what Kakashi referred to. "No. _That's _not an option."

"It _is._ You know it, I know it, _she _knows it. The two of you could unlock a whole new technique together."

That damn combination jutsu again. Yamato had his heart dead-set against it. Yes, Ino had proved her capacity to adapt and control huge amounts of chakra and perfect signing. Yes, she'd suppressed his threat and had impressed Kakashi, the Copy Ninja, the fucking _Scarecrow _of Konoha. But her abilities were still untried. He and Kakashi were 'safe' in that they would not _actually_ kill her since she was their comrade. In the field, all bets were off. Dangerous, powerful shinobi would have no qualms in slicing her to pieces.

Yet, Yamato felt that she would excel in the field. What concerned him was this combination jutsu she wanted to try. That would be an ace in the hole for her- -_them_- -but Ino's power came from her mind techniques. If he worked together with her to share jutsu, what else would be shared? She could read a target well, understand their fears and exploit them, and combined with her mind-jutsu, her danger to him was explicit. She'd already penetrated his mind prior to extract information. The combination jutsu would put her farther inside him than anyone else had ever reached. A terrifying prospect indeed.

"Tenzou…teach her the body-destruction jutsu. Then just see." Kakashi sounded reasonable. "You are always so resistant."

"There's a good reason for it," Yamato mumbled, but he noticed Kakashi had closed his eye. "Sleep tight."

Yamato pushed forward in Ino's training after that. As with the other jutsu and techniques, Ino learned and mastered the body-destruction jutsu within the next few months, as well as some additional procedures ANBU were required to learn. Her ANBU training was nearing its end. All that remained was her initiation into the Assassination Corps Cell 1.

At least, he hoped that was the path Lady Hokage wanted Ino to follow; he'd not heard from her about what she planned to do with Ino. He'd assumed Ino'd be his partner and fellow comrade in the Assassination Corps because why else have _him_ train her? From experience, Yamato knew the rigors of training were nothing like the brutality she would face in her initiation. Was she ready? Could he do more with her?

The answer to both those questions was yes, but he continued to compulsively drill her.

"Master, I'll be fine," Ino said, disarming him for the fifth time in a row, his katana flung end-over-end through the air, "so stop worrying over it."

"You presume too much." Wooden beams shot from the ground under her, reaching for her as she dodged away. "I'm not worrying."

She laughed, using a series of flame strikes to destroy the beams pounding into the ground around her. "A terrible liar, as always."

He interrupted the jutsu and watched her fire burn to ash the wood, hesitating as he thought of the combination jutsu, the possibilities of it working, the possibilities of it _failing_. Ino landed on the ground near him, hand steadying her fall. Her head tilted. He saw her eyes narrow. When he didn't move to continue the spar, she stood and retrieved the katana then walked it over to him.

"What're you thinking?" she asked. She touched her index finger to his forehead as he accepted the katana. "You've got a line between your eyebrows."

"Explain how, if we were to combine our jutsu, it would work."

She rocked back on her heels. "What? I thought you never wanted me to mention that again!"

"I'm allowed to change my mind." He sheathed the katana and crossed his arms. "How does it work fundamentally?"

"Are you sure? I mean…this is sort of…sudden."

His look told her what he thought of that comment. "Do you want me to consider this or not?"

"All right, all right." She smirked. "The way I understand it is the technique has the same properties as a healing jutsu. One body accepts and allows another's chakra to flow through the system. In a sense, there is a 'receiver' and a 'giver'. The giver transfers chakra into the receiver for him or her to mold with the proper signs. That's where it gets tricky," Ino said, gesturing with her hands. "The giver can't push too much chakra into the receiver and furthermore, the receiver has to get the timing of the signs right in order to avoid a back-up of chakra in the system."

"So that's why you thought of using your mind-jutsu. The receiver and giver can communicate with one another instantaneously to adjust the flow of chakra and keep track of the signs."

"That's the idea, yeah."

"I'm guessing you've already figured out that I'm the giver and you'll be the receiver."

She nodded, and he could tell she was excited even though she was trying to cover it up. He stood, looking at her, hesitating to tell her that they should try it, hesitating to let her inside his mind, close to his darkest secrets and fears even if it didn't happen immediately. But if ever there was a time, it was now with the completion of all her official ANBU training, and with Lady Hokage's unknown plans, they might never have this opportunity available.

"Let's try a preliminary trial and see what happens," he said finally. "I'm sure we'll live to regret it."

Ino grinned and reached into her waist pouch. "I won't let us die, I promise."

Yamato didn't say what crossed his mind, which was that she had no control over whether they lived or died, and saw that she'd withdrawn a scroll. In a quick movement, she unfurled it and settled it flat on the ground as she crouched over it. He stepped up to stand beside her and looked down over her shoulder.

"It's the actual transfer of chakra that'll be our challenge." She pointed to a flow chart with a set of notes. "Use regular jutsu and you'll end up killing me, and I don't think I have to teach you medical jutsu in order for this to work. I researched some of my clan's technique to help us figure out how to transfer the chakra from your body to mine. There are some watered-down signs that can be used by anyone that make it possible."

"I see. You're thinking of Shintenshin, where you pour chakra into a target without actually killing him."

"Right, exactly. I think if you use this combination of signs, it'll bridge the flow of chakra from you to me without causing me injury. I'll have to sign to suppress _my_ chakra to see if I can accept and control the chakra you're transferring into me."

Yamato nodded and practiced the signs she'd pointed to on the scroll. They were fairly easy to memorize. "Meaning, you want your chakra system clean and clear, since we're not sure what'll happen if our chakras combine inside you."

"Yeah." Ino stood up. "Are you ready to try this?"

"Ino. If it feels wrong…stop it. Don't be reckless." He didn't usually feel nervous, but muscles along his shoulders had tightened and his palms were sweaty. "You'll do Konoha no good dead."

She touched his jaw in a butterfly brush of fingertips. "Stop worrying. This'll be fine. I can feel it."

"If you say so."

"I do say so," she said and laughed quietly. After a moment, she neutralized her features and gazed levelly at him, matching his serious mood. She took a deep breath. "Let's do this."

"Before we begin, what chakra nature should I transfer? Water," he upturned his left hand, "or Earth?" Right hand upturned.

Ino smacked his left hand. "Water. I have a few water-based jutsu techniques I skimmed off a target's brain for a mission, but I lack the necessary chakra to control them."

He wasn't surprised. If she could 'imprint' a simple sealing technique, she could imprint other jutsu even though they may not be compatible with her amount of chakra. "Water it is. I should probably stand behind you?"

"Yes. I'll suppress my chakra now. Say something when you've signed the transfer jutsu," she said as he stepped behind her. He draped the long ponytail forward over her shoulder so the stream of it wouldn't get caught under his hands. "Oh, thanks."

He said nothing and instead, watched her shoulders straighten. Yamato physically felt the chakra expire inside her. The presence Ino commanded suddenly lessened. His fingers felt stiff. Nerves again, he thought, swallowing a wad of saliva in a dry throat.

"Chakra suppressed," she said. "Ready for the transfer."

"Roger," he answered, and flipped the signs he'd memorized. The chakra jumped alive in his system, ready to be molded into raw power. His right hand steadied his left forearm. Here goes nothing. "Transferring."

His palm hovering an inch over her shoulder blade was his single hesitation before he clenched his jaw and pressed his left hand on her back, channeling his Water nature. A spread of black, distinctive markings etched around his hand in curled patterns and designs on the green of her flak jacket. The chakra passing from his hand felt like water slipping between his fingers, cool and flowing, and he could tell his chakra diminished little by little. Transfer successful. The muscles in her back flexed; she must've been forming signs.

She mumbled something and the air whipped around them; water rose on all sides, crashing, pouring skyward in ever-shifting geysers. He watched, droplets spraying across his face, as the geysers molded into replicas of dragon heads, mouths hanging open with frills and tentacles, their bodies liquid and shimmering in the sun. The long, snake-like bodies writhed and twisted upwards so high Yamato lost them in the sun and his attention came back to his chakra levels.

The flow from his chakra system had increased, like floodgates opened, and before he could avoid it, Ino had allowed a gush of his chakra into her system. He could hear the low buzz of the chakra, even as the water dragons roared over their heads and shot into the surrounding forest with deadly speed and power. Trees buckled, cracking and groaning, and the crash of water spearing through brush and over land deafened him.

Chakra poured out of him, a huge quantity, as she built another jutsu with signs. The ground rumbled, a deep shaking, and a shadow covered the sun. He glanced, his stomach rolling with a bad feeling. A tsunami hung over the training grounds, poised to crash down and drown everything in its path, but the mountain-sized wave faltered. It shrank back, the waters roiling and churning, not smooth as it should've been, and the quantity of chakra Ino received slowed, decreased to nearly a trickle. The tsunami garbled, bubbling down until it no longer reached above the trees, when with a _sploosh_,itbroke into a splashing mess, as though a cosmic bucket had decided to dump its contents on the forest.

Water gushed up to his ankles as it rushed to fill the nooks and crannies of the land. Yamato stopped the transfer completely, really too stunned that it'd been successful to drop his hand. Ino slumped to her knees, like he'd shoved her, then went face-first into the dirty pool of water.

"Ino! Shit," he said, kneeling at her side and hoisting her up when she made no move to do so herself. "Are you okay?"

He jimmied her around so that she fit comfortably against him. The water had saturated the ground enough for mud to form. Her whole front- -face, arms, chest, knees- -was coated in filth and caked with mud. Her glorious hair had taken the worst of it, tangled, matted, and disgusting with twigs and grass that the water had picked up. Under the coating, her face had blanched and deep, dark bruises circled her eyes. And her eyes were on him, heavy-lidded and as blue as ever in the mud-caked face.

"I told you," she said, her words slurring together, "that I wouldn't let…us die."

"Yes, you did tell me, but you don't look…well," he told her.

She smiled- -a tired, slow smile- -and he watched the muscles in her throat contract and her lips work to form the words. "I think…I can't move," she said. "Not that the damage is permanent, but that my chakra system is burnt out."

Yamato understood. Too much chakra flowing in the system scours the network, making physical movement difficult. Because she uses chakra to heal, she would further damage her chakra network in the attempt to ease the pain. Her condition was one she'd have to heal from naturally.

"Not even a little?" he asked.

Ino crunched her eyes together, and as her muscles tensed, she scowled and gasped in pain. After a few attempts, she relaxed back and opened her eyes.

"Me talking to you is about it." She paused, gazing at him from under lowered eyelids. "I need a hot soak."

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**A/N: ** And may someone help poor Yamato's soul, indeed, in the next chapter, _Not How He Imagined It,_ coming to you on Nov.19th. See you then!


	11. Not How He Imagined It

**A/N: **Warning- -shameless fluff and romance below. I couldn't help myself, faithful readers and lurkers, and I sincerely hope you forgive me. Also, I find endless amusement in torturing Yamato. Enjoy. =)

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**Chapter Eleven: Not How He Imagined It**

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As soon as Ino said that she could use a hot soak, Yamato had a split-second vision of wet clothing peeled back to reveal pale skin. Her intention was to have him strip her bare and put her into a hot bath. Oh, no. Bad idea. "I don't think so."

"I don't want you to think I'm coming on to you or that this is a trick. We both know you'll have to help me," she said. "I'd suggest getting Sakura, but she's probably busy or on a mission at this point. Same with everyone else. I don't have any close female relatives or teammates. Only you."

"Ino…" How could he fully articulate his serious disagreement?

She closed her eyes. "Yamato. It's just nudity. You can handle it."

Arguing was useless. He pressed his lips together, undecided, as he maneuvered her to his back, hanging her arms over his shoulders and holding her high-up on her thighs. Her sopping wet clothes leaked through his flak jacket and his back felt the cool dampness. Taking her to his home was a very bad idea, he _knew _this, but at least there he could keep an eye on her so she wouldn't be by herself. The guest bedrooms were available and private enough for her.

The concept he considered- -of seeing Ino nude, not to mention helping her _get _into that state- -was ludicrous. Off-limits. Wrong. Regardless of her imminent promotion, she remained his student currently. Decorum dictated that he should not be in the vicinity of her nakedness.

However, her argument held an iota of truth. It was just nudity. Nudity was nothing to be concerned about; medics saw people naked all the time. She wasn't going to try anything, and couldn't in any case, so he should ignore her body and besides, her condition was the result of his decision. He should bear some responsibility for the consequences of that decision. From an ethical standpoint, he couldn't leave her lying around soaking wet and filthy until she was able to take of herself.

"Tut, tut. You're brooding," she said when he set her down to seal the gates. "I can tell."

"I'm not sure that what we're about to do is appropriate and best for us."

She sighed. "I won't kiss you, if you don't kiss me."

"It's not as simple as that," he answered. "Anymore involved and we're emotionally compromised. If I'm going to document your readiness for promotion, I want to make sure we don't complicate matters."

"Like how matters are complicated between you and Kakashi?"

Ouch. She'd hit her mark, all right, and that was not something he wanted to talk about. "Ino. None of your business."

"Fine." Her eyes had gone icy. "Leave me in my bathtub. Maybe in a few days I'll have enough strength to turn on the faucet."

He scooped her up and arranged her on his back after sealing the gates. "No need to get irritated. I'm making sure you understand the delicateness of the situation."

"I understand that the possibility of complicating our relationship is very real." Her voice had softened. "But you kill human beings for a living. That's the mission, and you get in the mindset of the mission. This is no different. I think you can manage one naked female for ten minutes." She laughed, in a tired manner that matched her earlier smile. "And it's not like you'll be getting naked _with _me."

Okay, true. But he hadn't thought of it that way and now that she'd mentioned it, his brain invariably crawled toward what it might be like to curl her against him without clothing as a barrier. He had to stave it off; he wouldn't be able to keep remote if he entertained the idea as he had started to more frequently on nights without Kakashi to keep him company.

He had to try to think of it in terms of a mission. Something like…_objective_: Strip and place subject into hot water. Assist subject in other various details. Mission completed when subject is healed and fully functional.

Better. If he continued to keep his thoughts short and terse, he could maybe trick himself into a nonresponsive state when handling Ino. He could do this. He _had _to.

Stage One: Rinse subject off before getting her to nearest bathroom.

When Yamato propped her up against a tree, and began flipping signs, Ino jerked in anger. "Hey! What the hell're you doing?"

He chose not to respond, and instead dropped a splash of water over her. The tree prevented her from washing away with the tide, but she spluttered her indignation at his treatment of her. He ignored her ineffectual irritation and lifted her again. His quiet abode greeted him with familiarity and comfort as he carried Ino straight to the guest bathroom. She relaxed back when he rested her on the toilet seat. The water had chased out the massive amount of debris that had coated her skin, clothes, and had tangled in her hair.

Stage Two: Run hot water.

The water poured into the tub, steaming and clean. She'd have to use his soap and shampoo, which he had extra of under the sink, and wear his clothes.

"Wash my hair first," she said from behind him. "Then pin it up, if you would."

He nodded, shoving his sleeves up past his elbows. "Roger."

An elastic hair-tie held up her hair. Yamato, unused to dealing with hair-ties, fumbled with it before understanding how it twisted and drawing the long, unruly ponytail through. Her wet hair was thick and tangled up his hands; he remembered a dream he'd had of her, several months ago when they'd napped in the field. The white-gold had been everywhere, reflecting the sun, tumbling around him and it had been her hair that had captured him into kissing her in that dream.

Shit. He'd lost all sense of detachment, and even as he helped her kneel on the floor and bend her over the edge of the tub, he realized that to think he'd be fine had been folly. Once in the water, her hair floated and trailed, a mass of strands, and Yamato thought of seaweed, how it dipped and swayed and danced in the tides of the water.

"How do I…do this?" he asked. His hair was short- -a dab of shampoo and some quick scrubbing were all he needed. "You've got so much hair."

She laughed. "I know. Start at the roots and just, you know, work your way to the ends. The suds should be enough to clean the length of it."

He'd filled his palm with a good measure of shampoo- -she did have a _lot_ of hair- -and used his fingertips to work it into her scalp. She sighed. As much as he wanted to avoid touching her, he liked methodically scrubbing the blonde hair, swiping white lather to hair that hadn't been cleaned. The further down her hair he worked, the more involved he became in understanding the mechanics of hair-washing. Did she wash her hair like this everyday? How did she manage to keep it looking so nice?

"Dunk my head in the water to rinse," she said, when he'd finished the tips of her hair.

She took a deep breath, and he steadied her as she leaned forward. Her hair billowed all around her head and spread as far as the other end of the tub. The soap floated to the top as he helped her sit up. Water dripped everywhere, but his floor was tile and he'd clean it up later. He laughed when her hair hung in a rat's nest mess over her face.

"You look a little like Medusa," he said. "Should I look away before I turn to stone?"

"Ha, ha. You're hilarious," she said, but with genuine humor. "Reach into my pouch…there should be a comb in there. And you'll need some chopsticks, if you have them."

"What're the chopsticks for?"

She twitched her head to flip some stray strands out of her mouth. He drew a couple fingers down the side of her face to free those stuck strands. Her cheek was smooth and flush, slick with water. Lips a rose-petal pink and beautifully curved.

"Thanks. After you've combed my hair, use the chopsticks to wind everything up to the top of my head."

"I see." He reached around her to her pouch. His regular old cheapie shampoo smelled foreign and expensive in Ino's hair and air became much harder to breathe. After he groped around, his nose hovering over her head, he felt the tines of the comb, which was a small thing that hardly looked fit to comb her feet of hair. "This…is going to take an eternity."

"Start at the ends and work the tangles out a little at a time."

He followed her directions, disbelieving how much time went into a girl's hygiene, stoutly ignoring his malfunctioning lungs. Ino's eyes had closed as she waited patiently for him to figure out the comb. And like with the shampooing, Yamato found he had a knack for combing out the tangles in the silk fall of hair, and when he'd combed the last of it, he felt disappointed that this part had come to an end. He formed some chopsticks with his wood jutsu, snapped them off, and wound Ino's hair up to the top of her head in a pseudo-bun. Strands escaped the twist and wisped around her face and shoulders as he returned her to her perch on the toilet lid.

"All right," she said. "Shoes first, then flak jacket."

He complied. As usual, he noticed her nails. They were a very pale pink, almost matching the color of her real nails. Her boot laces were crusted, as was the zipper of her flak jacket. He piled them in the corner to the side, wondering why his heart was beating in a syncopated non-rhythm in his chest. All saliva had evaporated from his mouth.

"Slacks and shirt."

Yamato knew this feeling. He'd felt the same elevated apprehension, the same giddiness, when Kakashi first took him to bed. His whole being measured undressing Ino the same as losing his virginity. The reaction was the same. No amount of soldier's discipline, of training, of suppression could possibly overcome his body's heightened response to unsnapping and unzipping her fly, shucking the pants by the waistband down her smooth, pale thighs, and down over her knees and ankles then taking the hem of the shirt, scrunching it up over her back, stretching the collar out and up so as not to catch the chopsticks holding up her hair, and helping her remove her limp arms from the sleeves.

One, her panties weren't the purple satin leopard-print. Two, he was having a heart attack, he was sure.

"Okay." She swallowed. "Now the net shirt."

As he removed the second layer, he noticed his hands were steadier than he expected. Again, her bra matched her panties, her cleavage all hanging out and wonderful, and why, oh, _why_, didn't he find some other woman or man or _something _to do this for him? He'd nearly forgotten what Ino looked like in underwear, whether the underwear was essentially lingerie or everyday plain, as they were now. How was it possible that she could sexy-up a white bra and panties?

"This bra doesn't have a clasp," Ino informed him as he stared. "You'll need to pull it over my head like a shirt. The band is flexible elastic, so it should be easy."

He wanted to. He hated to. This 'soaking' business had morphed into 'bathing', which was much more intimate than he'd ever imagined. Sure, Kakashi had slipped into the shower with him occasionally, but Yamato had undressed, soaped, rinsed, and dried himself. Never another person. Never a woman with to-die-for hips and a femininity that forced masculinity to bow on the ground, kissing her feet, her perfect ankles. He should've gotten drunk before taking this on.

Clearing his throat, he said, "Can't we keep your…underwear on for your soak?"

He frowned at the Kakashi-smirk that crawled across her mouth. "Are you afraid of breasts and a vagina? After hunting down and neutralizing the most hardened criminals? I never thought you'd wuss out."

"Feminine assets are not the same as Class-S shinobi."

"That bad, hunh? Some chick must've really done you a number."

"Stop. I don't have anything against women. I…prefer my dealings to be with men. They're less…complicated," he explained, defensively.

"Less complicated how? You use that phrase a lot. Do you mean that they don't get as emotionally attached as women?"

The steam from the bath had humidified the enclosed bathroom. He was hot and sweat collected along his back, and he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Emotional attachment has nothing to do with it. Men don't talk too much. They don't hang on each other." He looked at her meaningfully to emphasize what he said next. "They respect privacy and don't pry."

"So I get why Kakashi suits you so much. And yet," even though she couldn't, he could visualize a nonchalant hand gesture, "I also feel like he manipulates you and leaves you feeling hurt. How is that any less complicated than a relationship with a woman?"

Damn Kakashi. He'd revealed too much of their relationship over that dinner and Ino had bided her time, and bided her time, and bided her time, and chose to strike when he was most vulnerable and distracted. She'd kept so patient and kept so compliant, and he'd let his guard down, had let her get in too close and now she'd trapped him into an uncomfortable conversation in an even more uncomfortable situation. Once more, he found he had to fend off her aggressive assault into his personal life and feelings, which she had no real business asking about. Physical punishment had no real lasting effect on her, so emotional punishment might be necessary.

"I don't trust you enough to discuss these matters with you," he said to her. "You're impulsive and young, and I don't think you'd understand."

She stared at him for a long moment without saying anything, her eyes reflecting a wounded heart. "Okay." Her eyes shut. Then she nodded. "I get it."

He'd done it. He'd hurt her enough to force her back and he couldn't stand knowing how much it'd hurt her. The steam and heat in the bathroom suffocated him. He had to get out of there, out of her presence, so before he could chicken out, he hooked his fingers under the elastic hem of her bra and stretched it over her head. It came off with surprising ease.

Don't look. Don't look. Don't lo…his eyes wouldn't listen to his frantic brain and captured the image of creamy, round globes tipped with pink nipples. His hands begged for those curves. She kept her eyes closed, like the sight of him had exhausted her. To cover for his hesitation, he knelt and willed his hands to tug at her panties, a bikini-type pair, over her hips. His knuckles skimmed the soft skin, and this touch, more than her breasts fully exposed, elicited a very male reaction out of him. His heart, ignored until now, pounded and his mouth was dry, as he pulled the panties over her knees and finally off her feet, and he got a good eyeful of bare abdomen and the hairless junction between her legs.

Fast, to avoid thinking- -dammit, she _waxed_!- -and worsening an already bad situation, Yamato collected her up in his arms and settled her into the tub. He tried not to linger on her vulnerability, her limp arms and legs. The water leveled off above her youthful breasts, and his eyes did not avoid taking in her curves and contours under the gently undulating water. Her head rested back, and her eyes remained closed.

"I'll, uh, leave you here," he said, glad to be almost free. "I'll get some spare clothes around and check in on you."

She didn't respond. Frowning, he left the bathroom and made a beeline to his whiskey. He poured a shot and swallowed back the liquid fire and after two more, felt fortified enough to pour a double shot and take it with him to his favorite chair. Kakashi would be laughing at him, Yamato thought. Getting a good chuckle out of naked Ino in the bathtub. The hard pulse in his pants. God, he wanted to kiss her throat, her shoulders, touch the dip between her hipbones and run his knuckles up her spine and where the _fuck _was this thought coming from?

He pounded back the double shot. Heat gathered in his chest and he felt some spread up his neck to his cheeks. Good. Drunkenness achieved. He inhaled slowly, allowing the air to expand his trunk, and pushed the air out through his nose. Naked Ino jumped in front of his eyes, teasing him, daring him to complicate their relationship. But…she wouldn't let him touch her now; she was obviously pissed that he'd not wept and spilled his sob story into her lap when she'd asked about Kakashi.

Women. Yet another reason to stay the hell away from them. He sat, contemplating Ino's blonde hair before generating motivation to go upstairs and rummage around in drawers for a bit to unearth a plain t-shirt and some loose, leaf-printed pajama pants. They were clean so they'd have to do for her. After turning down the guest bed, he knocked at the bathroom door and didn't wait for her to call since she'd decided to give him the silent treatment.

"Found some spare clothes," he told her. "Are you able to move a little?"

He noticed the water had turned dingy grey and that fresh suds dried on the bar of soap. The spare clothes he put on the counter.

"Yes." Her low voice was quiet. Seemed she'd forgiven him. "But I couldn't do my back. Will you, please?"

TRAP! his senses screamed, and, rationally, he agreed that it was. But he couldn't resist lathering up the wash cloth and resting one hand on her upper-chest to support her as she leaned forward, exposing the field of pale back with toned muscles and the indentation of her spine. She had three black tattoos strung up right between her shoulder blades, three clan symbols- -Yamanaka-Nara-Akimichi- -that were tasteful and not at all gaudy and that he'd missed when undressing her. Those were her team. Her permanent loyalties. He scrubbed her back as quickly as he could and rinsed off the soap, squeezing a shower of water along those tattoos.

Silently, he drained the water, hauled her from the tub (her skin red from the heat) and dried her. The alcohol had put him in a semi-dazed state, thankfully, and he managed to avoid the arousal that had stirred in him earlier. Helping her don the shirt and pajama pants followed. The clothes hung from her frame and she looked, hm, _sexy_ wearing his clothing, and though he hadn't been turned on, he was now. Lust was back again, pushing at him behind his thinly veiled neutrality.

"You gonna stare all night?" Definite irritation there. Ino glared and the dark half-rings under eyes seemed more pronounced than before. "Or do I have to crawl to bed?"

"Sorry." He cradled her to his chest, an arm under her knees and one along her back. "Off we go."

She ducked her head away from its resting place on his shoulder. "Whoo, you must've had a whole bottle of booze."

"Nah. Just…four-fifths," he replied, purposely slurring 'fifths'.

Ino laughed, the sound finding its way from her throat, and her anger at him seemed to have winged away. He settled her into the bed and flipped up the covers. She adjusted, a shifting into a brand-new spot, and sighed, her head sinking into the pillows.

"Aaaah, heavenly. Thank you."

He smiled. "Glad you approve. Is there anything else…?"

She shook her head. Yawned. "Nope. Just a solid week of bedrest."

"A solid…week?"

"Hm," she said. "Three days, tops…" Her voice trailed off as her head nodded.

Yamato had sat on the edge of the bed. His hand, on its own accord, reached out and stroked back a few stray strands of hair from her face. Her mouth was relaxed and her lids had shut already, and an urge- -so strong and deep-running that he could not resist it, could not explain even where it originated- -came over him, and he leaned down and rested his mouth on hers. A warm meeting of soft lips. He paused, briefly, before straightening and backing away, waiting for her eyes to fly open and for questions to barrage him. None came. Ino had fallen asleep.

Thank God. He needed to get out of the magnetic presence and piece back together his sanity. He had three days to figure it out.

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**A/N:** Heh, did everyone make it through all right? I know, I know. I'm such a tease. Coming up next: _Mental Intimacy_ on Nov. 26th. And it's exactly as it sounds. See you then.


	12. Mental Intimacy

**A/N: **Welcome back, readers and lurkers, to another installment of "Behind the Cat's Mask". I want to apologize to my faithful reviewers- -for whatever reason, I was unable to reply and thank you for leaving me thoughts and comments on the last chapter. Each time I clicked the link, I was told it was out-of-date! Needless to say, I'm thanking all of you now and I certainly appreciate your kind words and encouragement. Please, enjoy.

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**Chapter Twelve: Mental Intimacy**

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Yamato survived three days with Ino sleeping in the guest bedroom. He told himself as he checked on her that he wasn't obsessing, but that he was irrationally concerned she'd stopped breathing or if she was awake, he couldn't hear her calling him. Several times he popped into the bedroom, swearing he heard his name from her lips, but finding her dead asleep. He knew what his problem was.

His mind had been edging around the image of Ino's nude form which had somehow lodged deep in his brain, in a position to spring out and attack him. Each time he'd thought he was safe, the picture of her breasts, or, worse, the length of white thigh and smooth abdomen, cropped up and, God, even the tattoos across her back, caused an extremely juvenile response. He was not one to usually…take care of matters himself, but there was no other relief besides his own hand. Each time it helped, but it never relieved all the pressure and never relieved it for long enough.

On the fourth morning, while he was stirring from the depths of partially restful sleep, he heard a _whump_- -a light body hitting a wooden floor from a height of about three feet. Yamato rolled out of bed and stumbled, half-conscious, down the shadowed, cool stairway and into the guest bedroom. The covers had been thrown back, and when Yamato rounded the corner of the bed, he found a spill of blonde hair and Ino pushing herself to a sitting position.

"G'morning, Sleeping Beauty," he said, and immediately regretted it. What was _this _stupid shit that had fallen out of his mouth? He couldn't possibly encourage her at this point. Must be his brain misbehaving because it was without coffee. Playing it off, he hooked a hand under her armpit and hauled her to her feet. "Need some help?"

"Yes…I hafta pee like crazy, but my legs…they're jelly."

"Were you planning on crawling to the toilet?"

She laughed and leaned against him for support. "I _was_ until my Prince Charming showed up."

"More like Pinocchio instead of Prince Charming," he answered, the easy banter leaving his mouth without filtration. Just shut up, he told himself. Shut up, you idiot. He'd maneuvered her into the bathroom quickly because her body heat seeped into his side and being in close proximity to her curves sounded all his alarms. "You okay now?"

"I am, thank you." When he turned to leave, she said, "You're still a prince, Master, no matter what you may think."

He paused and looked over his shoulder at her. _She _was the charming one. "I'm not your master anymore. While you were resting, I submitted the forms for your promotion. You should be called in for your final tests soon."

"Oh, yay! But! I _really _have to pee," she said. "Give me a couple minutes? Then I can celebrate."

"Sure."

Yamato stepped out and went into the living room where he'd spent the majority of his time these last days. The papers he'd been looking over were scattered across the coffee table and couch, so he shuffled them together and stuffed them into a drawer in the end table. To be honest, he'd not sent in the promotional report until yesterday; he'd wanted Lady Hokage's assurance that Ino would be assigned to his ANBU Corps, but one did not march into her office (especially when it was broad daylight out and she suffered from a massive hang-over) and interrogate her.

The slow, halting footfalls brought his attention to Ino. She used the wall for support, but she was up and about. Her hair, out of the chopsticks, hung in waving locks over her shoulders, tumbling around her hips. Golden and gorgeous. His shirt and pajama pants accentuated her curves appealingly. Her skin would be warm under those clothes, warm and so, so soft, if he could get a hand under that shirt…

He bounced out of his seat. "I'll pour you some coffee."

"Would you mind bringing it out for me? I'm on the sofa," she called after him. "So it's official? I'm promoted?"

Safely in the kitchen, Yamato busied himself with pouring her coffee. He remembered she took it black. And strong. "It's a pretty sure bet that Lady Hokage will promote you. She also decides where you'll be placed within the division."

"Can you recommend a placement?"

He came out and handed her the hot coffee mug. She accepted it with a smile, and he watched as she breathed in the coffee smell and blew on it to cool it off. Yes, he'd recommended a placement, and that placement had been in Assassination Corps Cell 1, as his partner; thus, the three-day delay in sending in the paperwork. As Kakashi had been informally discharged from ANBU to train and deal with Uchiha Sasuke, Yamato had been without a partner for some years. He'd also- -and he'd die a slow, agonizing death before admitting to it- -wanted to continue developing the combination jutsu with her.

"Yes, and I have," he replied. How to phrase this? "I recommended you take Kakashi's place as my mission partner."

"Really? That's…surprising. I figured you'd be jumping for joy to get out of your duties to train me."

He wasn't sure how to take that, so he watched her sip on the coffee. She closed her eyes when she swallowed, her throat contracted in a manner that put nibbling under her jaw in his imagination. Discomfort scooted closer towards distress.

"You tested my patience, but you were a good student," he said at last, standing and moving back into the safe kitchen. "Did you want anything to eat?"

"Noodles if you have them."

He did have noodles because one of Kakashi's not-so-secret loves besides erotica literature was noodles- -_not ramen,_ but plain noodles- -as well. "Plain?"

"That'd be perfect." Shuffling, then slow footsteps across floorboards. Ino stepping closer to him. "By the way…are you still interested in pursuing that combination jutsu with me? I think since we got the transfer technique on the first try, we can attempt it without suppressing my chakra."

His thoughts exactly, but he filled a pot with water and put it on the stove to boil. The next step would entail her to use her telepathy. She'd already stepped into his headspace, had communicated to him directly to his mind. What would it be like over an extended period of time? Would she regard his private thoughts or would she dig deeper into him to solve the mysteries he'd apparently posed to her?

But a new technique…something that would defeat the mightiest of men…surely such power could be wielded for the good of Konoha. Kakashi was right; Yamato was afraid of Ino's threat to his inner-most, personal emotions and fears. She shook him up, he knew that, but he couldn't be afraid of her if he was going to be a better shield for Konoha. To protect what the Third loved most.

"Hm?" He'd kept quiet long enough for her to prompt him.

"I think we can continue developing the jutsu when you're able," he answered.

Her eyes must be on me, he thought as a tingle worked down his spine, and he turned to find her beaming at him from the dining table. Not a man prone to blushing, he felt the flush spread up his neck and cheeks, and he turned away to check on the water. Radiance like that should be illegal.

They chatted some more while they waited for the noodles to cook, and he served her when they were ready. After her noodle feast, he helped her hobble to the bedroom and gave her her clothes. She buried her nose in them and inhaled.

"Wow, freshly laundered." Her incredulous tone was all she needed to express her thoughts.

He scowled. "I can work a washer and dryer if need be. Get dressed and I'll take you home."

"Yamato…" Her look had softened and her eyes were bright and shining. "Thank you so much. For everything."

Something in her eyes nerved him up, so he nodded curtly and left to water and murmur encouragements to his houseplants while she dressed. On the way to her apartment, he carried her piggy-back style. She kept quiet, but her presence so near his head- -the house of his _mind_- -sent pricks of anxiety along his back. The weight of her, the heat she transferred to him, and the subtle touches she administered (fingertips swooping under his chin, curving with his throat over his Adam's apple) distorted his emotions.

Two days later, they stood beside one another, facing the gates to the ANBU training grounds. Yamato disbelieved Ino could so rapidly heal, but when they entered the grounds and she nearly wasted him off the bat with a tremendous wall of flame, he quit asking her if she was all right to continue the jutsu. They arrived without much trouble to their 'secured' area. New growth had sprung in fresh, green tendrils since last they'd been there. As a result of all the water, no doubt.

"Right," Ino said. "First things first. I need to link us up. Questions?"

"Impatient?" He touched his mouth with the side of his hand. Inherently, he didn't like the idea of Ino inside his head even though it was necessary. "What exactly does this telepathy…_do_?"

Her look was hard. "Are you being serious?"

"Just…run down the basics, please."

"The telepathy I use for my teammates is essentially a jutsu that lets us link our minds together. I can turn the telepathy on and off to conserve chakra." She withdrew a bundle of wire from her pouch and handed him one end. Then she walked off a few feet, pulling the wire taut between them. "When the link is live, I can form a clear thought or command and direct it to you." She flicked the wire. It vibrated. "You do the same on your end." He flicked the wire to send her a vibration. "I'll intercept the thought through the jutsu. When we're in battle, and the link is open, we can communicate instantaneously to each other."

The explanation left much to be desired. He dropped the wire. "By leaving a link inside my mind, are _all_ thoughts and feelings open to you?"

"Only strong or vivid thoughts and emotions," she replied, winding the wire around her hand. "Anger, excitement, fear, for example."

Yamato mulled that over for a moment. "So there is some interference over the link with extraneous thoughts or feelings."

"Correct. But I'm able to differentiate between the thoughts you want me to hear and the ones that you don't."

He went silent because he didn't trust that statement. Ino should not have control over which thoughts she 'heard' and which ones she didn't. Too risky. Too much freedom for her to rummage around in his brain and pick apart pieces of him that were shakily held together. He couldn't do this if she was able to shuffle through him like a deck of cards.

"Yamato, look," Ino said. She'd come to stand at his side and her hand caressed the inside of his arm. "I swear I won't poke around inside your head. Please, trust me."

Her eyes pleaded with him, her hand stroking his arm muscles felt good, and she deserved his trust. If at this point he couldn't trust her wholly, he shouldn't have requested her as his mission partner. Even though a tiny part of him felt this was against his better judgment, he slouched over and nodded. "Okay, fine."

Gravely, she nodded and drew back to face him. "Ready on your go."

Last chance. Last chance to stop this, to forget the combination jutsu, last chance to avoid Ino inside him. He looked across at her, only inches away, her endless eyes steady and determined on his, and he couldn't understand why he felt like he was standing at the edge of something terrifying and awesome. He was not a coward.

"Go," he said.

Her fingers flew through the signs, the chakra thrummed the air as she molded it and then touched her hands to the sides of his head. He expected to be thrown into a closet, not an uncomfortable stinging at the base of his brain, working a path forward, multiplying, spreading so that it felt like all the synapses in his brain were alive and sparking, shooting information he didn't even know existed between them. A distinct feeling of not being alone, of that mercurial presence which indicated Ino's mind, merged in his mind. Felt like…hearing someone else's heartbeat…an almost physical feeling of the heart thumping in his ears, of the breathing in and out. The sound of living.

Ino's voice rung inside his mind. _You okay? You look pale._ Concern threaded the thought.

A million different bits and pieces of thoughts ricocheted around inside his head regarding how he should respond, feel, think, say, act…he wasn't sure what he should do. Was she hearing this confusion inside him, this anxiety? His nerves tightened his muscles, flipped his stomach over.

_Calm down. Gather a thought for me, _she said, patiently, calmly_._

Gathering his thoughts when the idea of someone breathing inside of him- -her heart beating in time with his- -was much more difficult than when she'd taken over his mind to extract information. Her presence had seeped into him at this point, like an invisible coating under his skin. Her eyes stayed on him as she waited for his response. Working to dampen his apprehension, to relax and accept the new feeling, he solidified a thought to give to her.

_This is such an…intense feeling. Hard to…hard to get used to._

_Yes, _she answered, _it's different from when I take over your mind. When I do that, we're two separate entities inside your head. This technique blurs the line a little._

Of course it would. _I didn't ask before, but…what are the risks of this technique?_

She didn't respond, but over their link, he felt her emotions or her thoughts flinch away. He understood what that meant.

_If the technique goes wrong or isn't broken for long periods of time,_ she told him,_ there is the possibility that one or both of us will become 'lost' in our minds. We would never be the same after that happened._

Then she sent him some information, a few facts and statistics that she'd read about and a memory of her father explaining to her the difficulties their clan faced when using mind-transfer techniques. The breadth of the link seemed to accommodate a large amount of information at once, and he felt surprised when the information embedded into his memory banks. The possibility of their sharing together could be infinite- -experiences, tactical strategies, facts and other classified information. But he knew work-related information wasn't the only type of information that they could share.

_What does it feel like when you turn off the link?_ he asked when a cold curl of panic snaked around his heart.

Her fingers flipped a couple more signs. When she shut down the link, the second presence dissipated. His mind, like a thrashing ocean, quieted to gentle waves, and he could more easily sort his thoughts.

_You there?_ he thought. She didn't reply.

Having her in the back of his mind ruined his zen. And somehow, he felt that having her there was good. Maybe that was his nerves talking, and he wondered how it would feel in the middle of battle to be communicating back and forth, knowing exactly what the other knew.

"What do you think?" she asked, out loud, with a lip caught between her teeth playfully. "Not too bad is it?"

He fought a smirk. "Awful. The worst feeling in the _world_. I couldn't stand to do that again."

"Har, har. You ready to try the transfer jutsu?"

"Hm. Now's a good a time as any." He tapped his head. "Is there a signal you want me to use to tell you to turn off or on the link?"

Mimicking him, she tapped his head in a reflection of his unconscious gesture. "That's good."

"Practice?"

She nodded and prepped her hands in front of her to form the signs. He tapped his head, and she immediately instigated the jutsu. The link came alive in his head, and since he was more prepared for it, he relaxed as he allowed Ino's presence to filter into him. Everything went frenetic, hopping and bumping around for his attention, but he centered himself. Ino turned her back to him and drew her long ponytail forward over her shoulder.

_Water nature again?_ he asked her.

He could feel her smile in her thoughts. _Yes, that will be fine._ _Ready on your mark._

_Okay._ This mind-link was pretty easy once you got the hang of it. _Go._

Yamato's hands and fingers moved through the signs of the transfer jutsu with practiced fluidity and planted his Water-based palm on Ino's back. Through the open link, he felt her presence gasp in shock- -that much was clear- -before her mind jumbled. Literally, he could sense her mind scrabbling around, gibbering in a manner that seemed urgent, but a commanding force blanketed everything, held it all under control as he felt his chakra mix with hers.

_So far so good. I'm circulating your chakra with mine using a healing-based technique,_ she said. She sounded breathless, the excitement unconcealed in her mind to his. _Let's get used to this before attempting jutsu._

_Roger, _he answered_._ He concentrated on the steady pump of chakra into her system, her whispers to herself about evening everything out and keeping the flow 'smooth'. While her mind was distracted, his mind wandered closer to listen. Like she'd said, there was interference, but most of it was from _her _as she coped with his chakra in her system.

_Okay. I think we can attempt a jutsu. Something moderate, _she said, and Yamato followed a fast-paced stream of consciousness to the thought she settled on. _Let's try a water-based clone._

_Roger that._

The shapes of the signs blinked behind his eyes as she thought them with quick clarity, and he began feeling the shaping of chakra as it left her system. And for some reason, the idea of the signs stuck with him, queued up the visual of Ino's tattoos across her back as he showered water along her shoulders to wash away suds. The memory was as vivid as if he was actually reliving the experience, seeing the water chase the white fluff over the expanse of smooth, shining skin, the pressure on the other hand when she leaned forward into it, how her hair had trailed white-blonde strands over her ears. It occurred to him that if he'd run a knuckle along the indentation of her spine, she'd probably have shivered.

Under his hand on her back, Ino did shiver and drew his attention to the half-finished jutsu. She'd hesitated, stopped mid-sign on the jutsu. The atmosphere inside his head, the feeling of chakra flowing between them, had shifted from uncertainty to heat. A channel from her to him had been flung open, a piece of her he'd never sensed there appeared, and he couldn't help but reach out with his mind, attracted to whatever it was that had been uncovered or…let seen. He brushed against it, a gentle motion, to see what would happen, and a shockwave of euphoria pushed him straight back into his mind and completely apart from her.

The transfer and mind-link jutsu had broken. That didn't mean nothing of her remained inside him. He stood, his arms limp at his sides, struggling to steady his breathing, the sudden hard gallop his heart was doing. Kakashi made him feel this way, but then…never in such a potent dosage. Euphoria this powerful was dangerous, lethal, to men like Yamato. And he knew he was doomed when Ino turned to face him and her look was utterly plain to him. She stepped into him, her arms dipping through his, curling around to his back and her chin tilted up, her mouth pretty and softly curved. Her hands clenched the fabric of his flak jacket. He couldn't escape.

"Don't run away from me," she whispered.

Their mouths connected.

The kiss that followed was passion and volcanic eruption and creation and a thousand more things all at the same time. It rooted him. Deep, thick roots shearing the earth, immovable and primitive. He couldn't even tell where he was anymore. Flying. Drowning. Burning. Did it matter when his entirety focused on her tongue and teeth toying with his lips, slipping along the contours of his mouth? Euphoria, which had sunk to his depths, buoyed back up. He groaned- -maybe she did too, he didn't know- -and his hands found her nape and the curve of hip and clung for his life.

Nails dug into his shoulder blades. Ino rolled to her tip-toes, rubbing her body along his and the new position aggravated an engorged part of him that he'd been hoping she hadn't noticed. He wanted sex, and he wanted it _with her._ The simple fact that his brain finally _got _what his body was screaming at it shredded the shroud of denial Yamato had cloaked himself in. As with the kiss she'd applied after that one dinner, she sliced to pieces his firmly anchored morals, he let her do it, _knew _she was pushing him along, and now he wanted nothing more than to get her unclothed, and writhing and panting underneath him.

Then the nails dragged down his back- -he shuddered from the sparks the light, sensual pain sent to every nerve- -and her hands dipped under all his layers. He'd been hot, but when her hands glided along his sides, slowly ascending to his ribs, fanning out fingers over flesh, the hard, full-body ache stole the breath from him. Kakashi's hands were never this gentle, never so soft and thorough, never so female and teasing. One of those hands fell between them to ghost fingertips over the boner nearly bursting out of his pants.

And just as her hand applied sweet pressure on his pleading groin, she stopped…stopped kissing, moving, breathing. Against his mouth she said, "Someone's coming. I'm gonna do something, so let it happen."

Before he could form a question, her hands were on his back and the absurd heat that had plumed through him shrank from an arctic chill shooting into his veins. The shock of feeling half-frozen effectively killed the neediness and the euphoric high he'd gotten from her. Blood that had made those feelings receded to more important organs. But Ino wasn't done. She leaned up and put her mouth so close to his ear, he felt her breath and lips brush him.

"Now it's your turn," she said. "I'm waiting."

Then she stepped out of his arms to position herself several feet away as though they were having a casual conversation. Yamato, mind spinning with left-over sensations and frustration, wanted to grab her back to him, but a sleekly dressed ANBU materialized in front of him. She wore the hawk mask, which sobered him because he didn't recognize her.

"Commander Yamato and the recruit are to be immediately escorted to Lady Hokage," she said, her speech formal and stiff. "At your ready."

Collected and even again, Yamato glanced at Ino. Her grin was a mile-wide. "Looks like it's time for your initiation," he told her. "Ready?"

Never hesitating, Ino nodded. Then to the hawk-masked ANBU, he said, "We're ready."

* * *

**A/N: **Y'all are going to love the next chapter. I promise you that. Look for _Chapter Thirteen: Landslide, _coming to you Dec. 3rd. See you then!


	13. Landslide

**A/N: **Annnnd...all that teasing is going to pay off, dear readers and lurkers. Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Landslide**

* * *

Ino blew through her initiation with more grace and elegance than Yamato thought anyone else before her had done. Frankly, she made the ANBU look simplistic. A single flip of hair, followed by an almost casual release of jutsu, and her fellow rookies had no idea where she was or what she was doing.

He'd stood with Lady Hokage, plus the other trainers, glued to the television screens all through the chaos and rapid-fire use of techniques. The objective had been to fight until last man standing, but Ino…clever, clever Ino, had faded away and had let the others fly at each other, never engaging in a huge fight, but picking off ones that had let down their guard.

After all was said and done, Lady Hokage picked the three best ones (Ino included) and all the official documentation was completed immediately after. Lady Hokage had chosen the owl mask for Ino and paired it with the codename Chie, which Yamato found perplexing. Of all Ino's traits, she seemed less like an owl and more like a swan. Nasty when provoked, stubborn, loyal, and beautiful.

Yamato had barely told Ino congratulations before Lady Hokage called them up for their first mission together. They stood in front of the tidy desk in the Hokage's Office. The uniform suited Ino when she appeared in it, and he liked the minimal layering. He at first almost didn't recognize her, since the familiar bright ribbon of hair was in an elaborate, braided coil at the base of her head. Even her fringe of bangs had been pulled back.

Seeing her also had a physical reaction. The kiss they'd shared on the training ground had not yet faded into the background; in fact, it fairly burned bright in his memory, a comet streaking across his mind, through his chest. Suppress, he thought. Suppress it all. He managed to lock the feelings up in the back of his mind, but suppression was temporary, at best. It didn't help knowing that.

"Tenzou," Lady Hokage said, "you and Chie will infiltrate an encampment of bandits finding refuge in the east. These bandits are considered largely Class A's. Discover if there are any plans to aid the Akatsuki and neutralize the threat. Questions?"

He had none.

The mission was simple enough, but locating and infiltrating the encampment was the only phase of the mission that went according to plan. At least twenty bandits had congregated, and they'd left warnings, knowing that ANBU would be deployed to their location. Heads of foreign shinobi, a clue here and there that denoted great strength or a proclivity for killing, but Yamato felt confident that with their represented skill-set, the mission would be successful.

They had planned painstakingly for a full week before attempting any infiltration. Ino was the one who did it, using her mind-jutsu to pop inside one of the bandit's heads. She walked around camp as that bandit, slouching and scoping out the intricate layout, where the most dangerous bandits established themselves, and observing the going-ons around what they had dubbed the 'leader tent'.

Another week followed in which Ino methodically took over the minds of the bandits and recorded profiles for each one. He kept watch over her with application of his Wood Release techniques. Over the course of their investigation, they discovered that the main bandit leader remained sequestered in his tent, having meals set outside his tent flap and one of the lesser-rank bandits pitching the chamber pot similarly left outside the tent.

They figured they could set off a distraction to draw out the other bandits. Ino could do that with a mass mind-jutsu. Yamato would capture and subdue the leader for Ino to interrogate, if for a brief moment. Once they had the information from the leader's mind, they would neutralize the bandits' threat to Konoha and the other five nations.

After all that damn work, _that_ was when a fresh contingent of bandits marched into camp. They had no choice but to accommodate the larger number, but when Ino worked up the chakra to form the jutsu, the camp broke into frenzied movement. After that, it was hell. He and Ino managed to terminate the bandits, including the leader, who proved to be a cut above the average Class A bandit.

Two things became blatantly obvious during the vicious battle: one, Ino saved the mission, using their mind-link and another mind-technique to tear the necessary information out of the target's mind and two, Yamato could put his complete faith and trust in her; she was safe.

They burned the encampment and all the bodies, and Yamato grew a fresh layer of forest over the ash and ruins. It was like nothing had ever happened. Ino even healed up a few of his ribs that'd been cracked in sheer bad luck. Together they dashed through the trees, heading back to Konoha. With the mission accomplished, Yamato allowed himself to relax and to enjoy the green and sunlight.

He shouldn't have relaxed so quickly. His mind had been largely occupied with the mission, and no extraneous thought had slipped through. Ino's presence had been consummately professional, so their prior intimate experiences had not bothered him. Now that he wasn't in a constant state of stress, he could shift into neutral…not thinking of anything in particular, but not off in his own world.

Then a small pebble, that Ino flicked, started the rockslide that changed everything.

They'd stopped to rest. Ino casually reached out an arm to lean against him, her hand on his bicep, and she stretched, nothing that was meant to be seductive, but that stretch panged inside his brain- -the subtle curve of hips and thighs, maybe the arching of her back. Whatever it was, it touched off something inside him.

It was as if all the physical sensations that he'd not been thinking of- -the multiple experiences with kissing Ino- -had combined and laid the tinder for a sudden heated flare. A different stress tightened his muscles and he felt wound like a spring; a hot, hair-trigger spring. He veritably jumped when Ino's thumb rubbed over the Leaf swirl on his arm.

"Hunh," she said, "you're practically vibrating with energy. Is there something wrong?"

The sound of her voice did something to him, pressed all the right buttons, and he couldn't understand why his dick had a growth spurt after so long in close proximity to her. She'd been _inside_ his damn head for this entire time!

Logic and reason nattered at him to back off, to get the hell away, that the suppressed emotional and physical response had blurred into an indescribable entity which had inexplicably formed during the two-week absence of any sexual contact with anyone.

His mask suffocated him. "Yeah, there is."

"What is it?"

He licked his lips, tried to swallow around a closed throat. Her nearness killed him and when he thought of the last kiss- -the mind-blowing one that had hooked him into her- -he heard the last of his straight-laces popping from the strain, his self-control giving in to a strong, masculine sexuality.

He remembered that he'd come to a decision about himself and Ino, a decision that brought with it a multitude of complication and furthermore, a decision Ino had left firmly in his hands, a decision made easier with the new trust he'd placed in her.

_Now it's your turn. I'm waiting._

She'd given him control over their relationship and he was about to mangle it. But this want he had for her…it was as though he'd been trying to hold back the flood with a stick. Not even his need for independence could withstand the flux of pent-up sexual frustration. All along, as he'd been sleeping with Kakashi, he'd been delaying the inevitable sex with Ino.

Never in his long record of service to the prestigious elite ANBU did he ever consider disregarding the two dozen or so rules and regulations that he was about to disregard in the next fifteen minutes. Not even with Kakashi after three months running around the whole five nations. He'd lost his fucking mind.

"Tenzou?" Her owl-face tilted to him. "You're okay?"

"I will be."

His heart knocked hard against his chest…prickled nerves telling him that he was being naughty, and he pulled his mask back, resting it on the top of his head. Sweat had collected on his skin and cooled in the free air. Then he grasped the mask on Ino's face. She grabbed his wrist to stop his prying fingers.

"What're you thinking?" she asked, irritation carving her words. "You know you can't remove our masks in the field!"

"Chie. What I'm thinking breaks a significant number of ANBU protocols. Removing our masks will only be one." His other hand buried fingers in the coil of white-gold at the back of her head. He missed the stream of it over her shoulder, but the severity of the style attracted him as well. "Do you understand my meaning?"

He tracked an inhale of breath, heard it pass into her nostrils and saw the swell of her chest. Her hand dropped to her side. Allowing.

"We're…we're picking up where we left off before my initiation, correct?"

"That is correct." He paused to gaze at her. "Are you with me?"

"Yeah, I'm with you," she said. "I don't sense anyone within my radius."

"That's good. Can you keep up your chakra sensory?"

She chuckled, a breathless sound. "I don't know. I'll try."

"Now, I'm taking off your mask. Please allow me to do so."

"I can't say no to you," she answered, as he pried the edge of the mask away from her face, and tossed it to the ground. "I'd wondered when you'd make your move."

He hadn't seen her face for two weeks and it might as well have been an eternity. In silence, he scanned each feature. He'd forgotten how striking she was, how her mouth was all perfect curves and lushness, the line of her brow and straight nose, and eyes that captured him in their forever-blue.

Too hard he yanked her against him, their ANBU plates clanking together, kissing her mouth hungrily. He _had _been starving. Her tongue curled around his; he kept that one hand planted in her hair to keep her mouth from wandering off, even as her hands had found the waistband of his pants and sexy groans escaped her throat.

Too long. Too long he'd waited to instigate this fiery unleashing. The burning and ache were in his chest, his guts, in his damn brain, and the kiss juiced him enough to dig his erection suggestively into her stomach, where even that light pressure caused him to gasp with the sudden ignition of pleasure. His gasp must've signaled her because her hands came up to his shoulders.

"Move backwards to the tree," she whispered.

"What? Why?"

"Trust me."

Then her hands pushed his shoulders and easily, he shuffled back against the tree trunk. His own hands were at her neck and jaw. The ANBU gear prevented him from touching her anywhere more pleasing, except her bare shoulders, so he promised himself that he'd fix that when they got back to Konoha. Or until he got her stripped of the gear. A sharp nip on his lip dispelled the half-thoughts.

Vaguely he heard a little snap and a zipper, and only when he felt himself slide, hot and heavy, out of his pants into her waiting hand, did he realize she'd undone his fly. His whole body flashed-flooded arousal and broke out in goose-pimples when she drew some fingers up the tender underside of his shaft and then a whole hand squeezed him gently.

She peeled her lips from his to say, "Hm-hm. You _are _a real boy, Pinocchio."

"That's the one part of me that's still wooden," he answered. Though foggy, his brain seemed to appreciate the banter that'd been started a few weeks ago. He bit and sucked the lobe of her ear. She shivered, and he whispered directly to her, "On your knees."

She chuckled. "Oh, _so_ naughty." Then she purred and nuzzled him, licking the shell of his ear in return. _That _sent a blaze of heat streaking to his clenched groin. "So that's how you like it."

After a few moments of nibbling his ear, Ino dropped to her knees and without the slightest hesitation, swirled her tongue over the sensitive head. The stimulation caused him to buck and Ino pushed on his hips to steady him.

"Easy now," she whispered.

He cursed, reaching out to dig fingers into the bark of the tree as she lapped at him then sucked him in a torturous rhythm. Good God, where had she learned to give such a blowjob? A haze fell around him, one that ignored everything but Ino and her skillful tongue, how quickly the orgasm built, how that tightly wound spring would finally be set off and free him.

There was no way he could look at her. To see her actions would end him. So he felt how she took him slowly into her wet mouth, hot lips and tongue gliding down his length, into her throat. Release. Again. He panted and pulsed with each release. The edge was close, closer than he'd ever imagined and he was so ready to jump it, and right as the heat fanned out, the start of a crushing wave he needed, she pulled back.

"Do you want to finish like this?" she asked. Her voice was so low and husky he shuddered, but the climactic wave receded, leaving him a heaving, sexually frustrated mess. He looked at her, her blue eyes heavy-lidded and deep with emotion. "I can do that if you want."

"No." He sounded choked. "Stand up."

She complied, and their mouths were ravenous. He could taste his scent on her lips, but he didn't care because he was intent on their physical connection, which had been neglected in lieu of their mental connection to each other. One way to solve that problem.

Somehow he got his hands free from her hair and by some miracle, formed the signs necessary to grow thin, flexible threads of wood up the tree behind him without overshooting the amount of chakra or forgetting a sign. Far overhead there was a branch, and he wound the tendrils around that branch, draping them low so they came to their level. He looped them to fashion a cradle of sorts about waist high.

Her teeth bit his lip hard, causing him to flinch back and hiss in pain.

"You're not paying attention," she said. "I hate that."

In reply, he gripped her arm and tore her around to face the opposite direction. His arms caged her against his chest, and his fingers popped the snap of her pants and tore down the zipper. The waistband loosened enough to slip over her hips. Her panties were black and contoured her ass crack and those hips he loved. Want buzzed his brain, made him stupid. He couldn't stand being apart from her anymore.

"Lean forward in that," he told her.

When she didn't immediately comply, he hustled her to the cradle and pressed his hand between her shoulder blades- -on the string of clan symbols he knew to be there- -to bend her over. She adjusted in the loops of wooden vines, which supported her from her waist to her shoulders, and she gripped them with her hands.

When she bent, her ass rode up his erection, and as he lined himself up behind her, he found her to be a little low for him. A block of wood under her heels to tilt up her butt would suffice and it did.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked. He wanted her to be relaxed for this.

"Yeah. I'm good. Keep going," she answered.

He turned his attention back to her rear. Curious, he rubbed a fingertip along the panties, following the curve of her ass to the heat between her legs. She yelped, then moaned, when he discovered the bundle of nerves and circled the pad of his finger against it.

A smirk crawled across his face. "Good?"

"Hmm…"

Her muscles flexed under his other wandering hand, and he heard her panting. Through the fabric of his gloves, he felt her dampness, and feeling that arousal, that readiness, broke apart the faulty resistance he'd constructed. Working quickly, he peeled the panties and pants down over her pale thighs and her position displayed all she had to offer to him. Her pink folds indeed glistened with her lubricant and a heady scent of musk pummeled his senses. His dick twitched in anticipation.

"Goddamn, you're ready," he half-mumbled. He dipped his hips forward, stroking his length along her heated center without penetrating her. She twisted, a startled grunt escaping her, and what he hadn't felt through the glove was _how _ready she was. A thick coating spread over his skin. But he couldn't take her without knowing for sure. "Tell me to stop now, Chie, if you don't want things complicated. Tell me to stop."

Please, don't tell me to stop. He wouldn't be capable of bearing it if she said stop.

She spoke between heavy breathing, sounding desperate. "I…_like_…complicated."

That's all he needed to hear. Her natural lube eased his entry into her tight sheath, and her body took in all of him at once, she was so relaxed. Both of them vocalized their joining. Throbbing had taken complete control of all his faculties, and before he was even ready, he brought her hips back in a short stroke.

"Oh, _God,_" she said and she cried out when he repeated the action.

The cradle simplified the natural motion of their hips…swinging a fraction of an inch forward and then back, allowing him to establish a rhythm that suited them both and to keep him deep inside her. Her heat and slickness and their rhythm coiled the tenseness again under his stomach, started a powerful rising at the base of his skull.

"Keep…it…steady," she gasped at him. "That's…so good."

He'd kept his eyes on her hair, following curl of the elaborate blonde rope, noticing the familiar chopsticks that she'd pushed through the braid to keep it against her head, but he couldn't help but look at the sex they were having. The gliding in with each stroke, the impact compressing the muscles in her back and ass sent him on a tailspin.

Now the wave rushed up, threatened to swallow him whole, but hung back…waiting. Simply…wouldn't free him. And he knew there could be more. He searched for it, the euphoria that had stunned him stupid, but couldn't find it. Ino shifted, dipping her waist more, and he must've hit a perfect spot because her groan bordered on a scream. That noise activated his memory.

"The…mind-link," he said, hoarsely. He broke their perfect sync. "Turn it on."

"Ten…zou, I-I can't!" Her head shook, and though he couldn't see her face, he could swear she sobbed. "Please…_please!_ I need more!"

Begging him. He'd never been begged before; his cock pulsed with his pounding heart, wanting her friction, loving the power over her. She groaned, and she tried to start up their intercourse again without his consent. Bad girl. Angrily, because he _craved _her inside him, he dug the sharp claws that tipped his ANBU gloves into her flesh.

"Do it."

She grunted or whimpered, he wasn't sure, and her hands left the vines she clung to. A few seconds later, a familiar stinging grew in his brain. _Finally_. When her presence coalesced with him, he mentally kicked down a barrier he instinctively sensed in her mind. His attack took her by surprise enough that she put up no resistance as he dove into her own headspace to find what he was looking for.

And startled, she revealed it to him a second time.

Fuck, _yes._ He grabbed as much of whatever it was that he could, sucked it into him, while rolling her hips back. The new pace was furious, mainly because the feeling was no longer purely physical. Her emotion sent him through the atmosphere, and he hung up there, soaring, and _fucking _her so hard she screamed with every damn thrust, and the wave that had been teetering, teasing, crashed through him when she clenched together her muscles and shrieked in climax.

His orgasm was cataclysmic. White shaded his eyesight. The release gushed heat to every pore, his balls tightening impossibly, his nervous system shorted, and he was pretty sure time stopped. Nothing functioned. Ah, yes. He felt suspended, pieces of him fluttering around on wire, with no connectivity whatsoever, above himself. An out-of-body experience. Body. Yes. He had one. Where was it?

_I guess you needed that, _a thought told him.

_Yeah._ He couldn't muster anything else, concentrating on breathing, on gathering energy.

_You mind moving over a bit…you're crushing the air outta me._

He sort of came to himself then and realized he'd toppled onto Ino. The vines had held, and they swayed from whatever motion had been left from their lovemaking. His feet found the ground, took his weight when he stood. Flaccid, he pulled free of Ino.

A streak of white fluid ran down her thigh and not even thinking, he spread his hand under the droplet, catching it in the curve between his thumb and first finger. His glove absorbed it enough that he could wipe it off her skin. Then he stepped back, hauled up his underwear and pants, and watched Ino do the same.

_Thanks,_ she told him through the mind-link. _I'd been waiting a long time for that._

_For this to get complicated?_ he asked sardonically. He tapped his head, signaling her to cut the mind-link. _I'm sorry. I really need to…recollect and be alone. Is that okay?_

_Sure. Whatever you need._ And the statement was mired in soft truth and empathy.

The link cut off, and as they replaced their masks, Yamato felt…different. He couldn't be sure what the difference was, but he thought maybe it had to do with Ino and that empathy. One other person had ever empathized with him.

That person had been the Third.

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**A/N:** Stay tuned for Yamato-angst in the next chapter, _Odd Man Out_, to be posted on Dec. 10th. See you then! =)


	14. Odd Man Out

**A/N: **Greetings, readers and lurkers! I hope you enjoy this early (amazing!) chapter of "Behind the Cat's Mask".

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**Chapter Fourteen: Odd Man Out**

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He'd utterly and completely screwed up, and he couldn't bring himself to be at all concerned. Perhaps because he was high on the most memorable sex he'd ever had. Sure, everything Lady Hokage had warned him about had happened, so now, of course, he was emotionally compromised. _Boy_, was he emotionally compromised. But, like Kakashi had said, he'd at least waited until she'd been promoted. That counted for something. Right?

Then he realized. Oh. Shit. What about Kakashi?

The high crashed him into hard reality. Yamato had not even spared a thought to Kakashi when he bent Ino over. To their promise. He clenched the hand that sported the scar of that frigid, horrifying night, when the lightning flashed and the thunder rumbled through his chest, when two half-dead kids took shelter from the driving rain in a hollowed-out tree trunk.

And the guilt that he hadn't been feeling swelled like floodwaters under his heart. He should not be feeling guilty. He and Kakashi were not exclusive to each other. Yamato knew Kakashi visited others for bedroom romps, so why was he, Yamato, feeling like having sex with Ino betrayed Kakashi? It didn't. Kakashi didn't care. If anything, Yamato should be feeling guilty that he'd not heeded Lady Hokage's warning and complicated things with Ino.

But Kakashi had _always _been available for Yamato when he needed him. You can't just…ignore a decade and a half of bleeding, broken bones, fighting, killing…in short, _partnership_. Yamato had always ever wanted to be first in Kakashi's heart, even though that position was taken by someone long dead. Even if that desire to be Kakashi's equal- -romantically and professionally- -drove others from closing in on Yamato's own heart.

A pulse hammered in his temples. The complication had given him a headache.

He could chalk it up to sexual frustration and a lapse in judgment, and be done with it, with Ino and her blue eyes and curved body and low voice and dammit, he wanted _more _of her. That want was dangerous; her empathy and that euphoria he found inside her were dangerous. What he was doing was walking along the edge of a precipice and the path ahead of him twisted and turned. At any point, he could fall into an abyss. He could fall in love with Ino.

He did not want to fall in love with Ino. He would not. Kakashi satisfied him, and in a backwards way, Kakashi needed what Yamato had to offer, he was sure of it. Ino could not divide him from Kakashi. If she did, Kakashi might not bother with Yamato anymore. Yamato did not want to lose Kakashi's interest.

No one could know about the shift in his and Ino's relationship. Not even Kakashi. This whole thing was probably a phase that would wear out after a few bouts. He'd deal with the guilt and with keeping a secret to scratch this itch he had for her. Then it would be done and he and Ino could move on and he could keep his promise to Kakashi. He could keep Kakashi near.

He and Ino finished their journey back to Konoha without any trouble and with minimal interaction. She had given his space as she said she would, keeping her hands and questions to herself. Before they dropped in on Lady Hokage, Yamato had Ino reactivate the mind-link so they could get their details perfect for the mission report, and even her mind gave him the space he requested. In the office, they found Lady Hokage hunched over a desk laden with paperwork, and when they arrived, she sent Shizune out for some privacy.

"How'd you fare?" she asked, propping her head up on one hand. "Successful, I assume."

Yamato, as acting captain, replied. "Yes. The mission was successful."

They discussed the details, and he noticed that Lady Hokage's eyes kept flicking over his shoulder to where Ino stood behind him. Lady Hokage seemed only partially interested in his account of the mission, and when he was through speaking, she nodded and thanked them for a job well done.

"Tenzou, you're off rotation for now. Get some rest. You are dismissed." She flipped through some papers and pulled one free. "Chie, you've got another mission."

Ino stepped forward to accept the dossier. "Yes, milady."

What? No! _Dammit._ Wasn't Yamato her partner? Shouldn't he at least be given that privilege of accompanying her on her missions? He opened his mouth then closed it, when he thought better of it. Nothing he could say would change the Hokage's mind. He could plead and make a fool of himself or disobey, but the consequences of doing any of those things were too high a price for him to pay and after so many years of control and discipline, he wouldn't anyway. He'd have to wait for Ino. And with his luck, Lady Hokage would push Ino to the limit to see if she could break the new ANBU, and would do so by assigning mission after mission after mission.

"Tenzou," and Lady Hokage's voice cracked like a whip, "you're dismissed."

"Thank you," he said. Then before he left he thought to Ino, _Meet me before you leave._

_I will,_ she thought back to him. _Please wait._

He exited the office and loaded chakra in his feet to leave a trail behind for her to follow. To say he was disappointed that Lady Hokage had given Ino a mission separate from him was not entirely accurate. He supposed he needed the space, some time to tame these roiling feelings, but on the other hand, he wanted to get his fill of her as quickly as possible to avoid scandal.

The roof of the Hokage Tower was his second favorite place to stand. Up there, the entire panorama of the Hidden Leaf spread out at his feet, the kingdom that he'd grown to love. Here, he felt closest to the Third. The roof was peaceful, with the sound of the wind and chirping birds to keep him company. Even that quiet, which on any other occasion he sought out, made the waiting interminable.

At last, he felt her approach. He'd given her one of his tracking devices, which she taped under the hem at the top of her gloves. He didn't tell her he'd slipped one into a pocket of her pants. That one was under his control and his back-up if something should go awry and she didn't want him knowing where she was. Both sent out signals, a beacon he looked to. Ino came around the corner of the tiny ally between an industrial air conditioner and the side of the building. He'd settled in a niche there.

"Hi_,_" she said to him. "Sorry for the wait."

He held out his hand, half-expecting her to ignore it, but she rested her hand in his. Just another protocol they ignored. Unable to resist, he flipped up her mask and settled it on her head then did the same to his. She made breaking rules too easy.

"She's rolling you," he told her.

Ino's mouth quirked. "Rolling me?"

"Like the proverb 'A rolling stone gathers no moss'," he answered. "We in ANBU use the term when we have back-to-back missions."

She laughed. "But if you wanted, I'm sure _you _could gather moss."

"Funny," he said.

"When're you-"

He cut whatever she said next short by ducking forward to kiss her. He hadn't wanted to start anything he couldn't finish, and she must've felt the same because the kiss had a patient yearning in it, was languid and pacifying. She started to pull away, but he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and kept her tight against him. Gliding his tongue along hers, inhaling her smell. Her nearness and heat seeped into him. Couldn't help the sudden turn his heart did. He knew they did a dangerous, stupid thing, and that she needed to head out, but he had one last thing he wanted to say to her.

He shouldn't. He shouldn't, but the saying would reinforce her Will of Fire. Before their kissing could spiral out of control, he dragged his mouth away to whisper to her.

"Come back home," he nuzzled her temple and squeezed her, "_then come home to me._"

He kissed her mouth twice to fortify himself and released her. She jumped away, a black, womanly blur. She did not stop to look back. Come back home to Konoha then come home to me, he thought after her, hoping the repetition would keep her alive. So his waiting began. Yamato pulled down his mask, a sense of loss curling through his chest. He shook free and headed to the ANBU locker room to shower.

Genma was there, all pompous jackass and no thought to privacy. "Yo, Tenzou." He sauntered over, a towel separating Yamato from a show he didn't want to see. "How's that blonde hottie you're training?"

Yamato felt distaste creep up. After so many years, he'd thought he'd get over Genma's prickish behavior. "She's…fine. On a mission."

That seemed to perk up Genma. "Is that so. A shame really." The senbon rolled between his teeth. "I was looking forward to hitting that shit when she got off rotation."

He was getting a vibe from Genma that made him uncomfortable; Genma's eyes were unusually attentive. The position of Genma's body, too, made him feel discomfort. He stood inside Yamato's personal bubble.

"I'll, ah, be going now," Yamato replied. He edged away, but Genma stepped closer. "Is there…something else…?"

"Yeah. A group of us were heading over to Leaf Blown. Tonight's margarita night for the ladies and half-off tap beer. Interested?"

What Yamato was interested in doing was going home and falling into bed, alone and in peace. There he could take a guilt-trip, agonize over Ino and Kakashi, wait for the former or latter while battling loneliness, and hate himself for being undisciplined and out of control. He didn't want to deal with people, especially drunk, _loud_ people, which was the crew that Genma hung with. Yamato's reserve didn't belong in such uproarious company.

"You going with Anko?" Yamato asked, stalling.

"Yeah, she's going, but not with me. We're 'on a break'," he said, mimicking a woman's voice. He smiled, and Yamato had a flash of that wicked grin that Ino'd given him when they'd met for her training. "By the way. I've convinced Hatake to come along."

That last statement probably wasn't true. The fact that Genma dangled Kakashi like a carrot in front of Yamato had him thinking it was said to get him to Leaf Blown. But for what purpose? Genma knew Yamato wasn't a social personality. But perhaps Leaf Blown would help Yamato get a handle on the feelings Ino had stirred up recently. More importantly, he hoped he could get a handle on _himself._

Not to give Genma the idea that Kakashi being there had decided him, Yamato hedged. "I'll think about it. What time?"

"All night," Genma answered. A smirk dipped the senbon. "But the party starts at seven, if you're the prompt type."

"Thank you. I'll see."

"Tenzou," Genma called, when Yamato put his hand on the door to leave, "don't puss out."

As he left, Yamato thought how obscene Genma could be sometimes. Genma's offer was put to the side when Yamato arrived home. His house was undisturbed and to occupy his time, Yamato did some chores. The houseplants were faring well, bright green new-growth pleasing him. But no matter what he did, Ino's pleasured cries echoed in his brain, the vividness of her coiled hair, and the overwhelming euphoria teased him under the surface of his thoughts. Worst of all, time crawled by. Not even his chores seemed to fast-forward time much.

Defeated, Yamato decided to participate at Leaf Blown. He got there at seven, and he hated that Genma pegged him as the 'prompt type' and a group of them, including Genma and Anko, had already secluded themselves in a corner of the establishment. The entire group raised their beer bottles and bowl-shaped glasses when he came through the door. As he thought, Kakashi was nowhere to be seen.

The night wore on. Yamato dutifully drank his beer and found mild entertainment at the egregiousness of the others as they consumed the alcohol by the gallon. They laughed too hard, spoke too loudly, and most faces had turned a beet red. He bore none of them ill will for staggering over him or spilling drinks. Ino largely circled his thoughts, but it was difficult thinking of anything in the noise and when he was jostled so frequently.

Then somehow in the course of the evening, Anko had wormed to his side, and flanking him on the other side was Genma. How this had happened, Yamato had no idea.

"You know," Anko said. She turned to lean her breasts on his arm. "We never got very close, did we? And we, out of everyone, understand each other the best."

What the hell was she talking about? Yamato tucked in his arm, but Anko felt like she'd leeched onto him. Then on the other side, Genma spoke in his ear, "Hey, check out the noob over there." A beer bottle gestured to the 'noob', a rookie ANBU judging by the bandage on his shoulder, one that Yamato kind-of recognized from Ino's initiation. "He's so fucking smashed. It'd be hilarious if we pranked him…"

The other ear: "…was thinking we could be alone to…"

"…shit his fucking pants if we did that to him…"

Then he felt a hand crawl up his thigh, and all reasonable patience fled him. Sharply, he slapped a palm down on the offending hand and pried it free, even with nails sinking into the flesh through the pant-leg. Anko hissed, drawing away, and the movement caught the attention of Genma. Genma then noticed who was on the other side of Yamato as he left bills on the table to pay for his drinks.

"What the fuck, Anko. Butt out," Genma said, across Yamato. A heavy arm draped along his shoulders, holding Yamato in his seat. "I've got dibs."

"Asshole," snapped Anko, "I was here _first_."

Genma's face turned an ugly shade of red. "I was in his _squad_ first, bitch."

Anko's pause was the coming of the end. She leaned down to sip from her drink, sensually curling her tongue around the straw, leaving Genma waiting for her retort, and when she'd swallowed, her eyes narrowed and a hand leaped out to yank Genma's arm from Yamato's shoulders. Genma grimaced because as Yamato knew, Anko had filed her fingernails into points.

"Yeah, well," Anko said, fury making her speech quite clear, "Orochimaru fucked us up _first_."

Okay. I'm out, Yamato thought, standing. When Orochimaru came up in casual conversation…_that _was the deal-breaker for him. He twisted out of Genma's grip smoothly and strode to the door. He shouldered it open to escape- -he heard Genma calling his name from behind him- -and stepped into someone on the other side.

"Pardon," Yamato said, shuffling back. Then he saw who it was. "Kakashi!"

"Yo. Sorry I'm late. Genma said you'd be here," said Kakashi.

"Genma said, hunh?"

The door swung open, forcing Kakashi and Yamato to clear the way, and a loud roar followed Genma onto the sidewalk with them. It muffled when the door slapped closed.

The senbon wobbled between Genma's lips as he blurted an apology. "Man, I'm sorry about Anko. She's such a cunt sometimes," he said to Yamato. "Don't let her ruin your time."

"That's okay." Yamato glanced to Kakashi. Please, help me. "She's…who she is. I'm pretty beat, so I'll be heading home."

Genma's face fell. "You sure? Your next round's on me."

"No, thank you. I'm at my limit."

Frowning, Genma looked to Kakashi. "You coming in?"

"Nah. I have to scare away all Yamato's over-zealous admirers."

That seemed to anger Genma. He sneered and spun on his heel to slam into Leaf Blown without wishing them a goodnight. Yamato felt strangely removed from the whole occurrence, and without saying anything, started walking home. Kakashi fell into step beside him, their amicable silence carrying them to Yamato's home.

"So Genma's got quite the crush on you," Kakashi said at last, when Yamato opened the door. "It seems as if I interrupted his plans for you tonight."

Yamato grunted in agreement as he hung up his flak jacket and hatsuburi and worked the laces to his boots. He stunk of cigarettes and booze and the quiet in his home accentuated the headache that Leaf Blown distracted from. He didn't want to think about Genma and Anko. Aspirin. Kitchen. Go.

Kakashi trailed after him, bare feet padding over the floor in time with his. "What happened back there?"

He'd found the aspirin and pried off the top before he answered. "Anko and Genma were…fighting over me, I think. Maybe it was Anko spoiling Genma's plans. I don't know. Anko mentioned Orochimaru as a one-up on Genma, but I'd had enough as it was."

"Anko," Kakashi repeated softly. "She doesn't know when to stop."

"Apparently, neither does Genma."

In the contemplative silence, Yamato took the aspirin with water and set the empty glass on the counter. "You didn't have to leave on my account."

"I was going because you were there," Kakashi answered unexpectedly.

Guilt swallowed him, cold and heavy, and greased his insides. _I had sex with Ino_ wanted to leave his mouth. He should admit the truth and alleviate the guilt. He'd ruin everything, but he'd be relieved. Kakashi had moved around the counter into the kitchen and when Yamato half-turned, Kakashi stuck out an arm to box him against the counter.

Yamato said, "You want to get me into bed."

"Hm. Maybe," Kakashi answered, tugging on the cloth mask.

He smiled at Yamato before pressing an experimental kiss on Yamato's mouth. Kakashi was sampling Yamato's mood, but immediately, Yamato's mind leapt to the goodbye kiss with Ino, the one before her initiation, all the other ones they'd shared, and those set off angry whispers inside his skull. Angry whispers that told him he had no business kissing Kakashi until things were sorted out with Ino. Angry whispers that told him that he was a liar and a traitor and so, so selfish. An aching pain burst in his chest, forcing him to push Kakashi gently away. The kiss hurt him too much.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm…not up to par tonight," he said, lying again.

Kakashi's eye assessed him for a moment, but he released Yamato from the counter and replaced the cloth over his nose and mouth. "Some other time, then."

Yamato nodded and followed Kakashi to the front door. Kakashi let himself out, but before he stepped off the porch, he laid a hand on Yamato's shoulder.

"I'm nothing if not patient," Kakashi said. "Goodnight."

After returning Kakashi's farewell, Yamato closed the door and tried to ignore the aching where his heart was. The aching irritated him because he felt that if he was a goddamn shinobi, he should _not _have to deal with stupid feelings. But he was not a member of Root, and although ANBU were trained to suppress emotions, those emotions leaked out anyway. Even the most hardened soldier succumbed to emotion once or twice.

He found his thinking had gone back to Ino, her spirit, her care for him, her empathy and understanding. She would know what to do about this mess. Perhaps he should break things between them _now _instead of later. Would that make him feel any better? And what would happen to _her_? A thought leapt to what Genma had said in the locker room, that he'd like to take Ino to bed. But had that been a ploy to distract Yamato from his true motives? He didn't know. What a freaking nightmare he was in.

Ino, he thought as he climbed the stairs, slow like an old man, Ino, please hurry home.

Even as he got ready for bed, he knew he'd be up the whole night, exhausted, willing himself to sleep, but the guilt would continue wearing a path through his mind. Sleeplessness and guilt would be his punishment; punishment for lying to Kakashi, punishment for not being a good soldier and breaking rules, punishment for living when so many others died, punishment for not protecting the Third as he should have. If he was going to feel guilty, might as well feel guilty about it all.

He lay on his back- -staring at the shadowed ceiling, hands folded over his chest, listening to the tree branches brush the windows and the sides of the house because of the wind- -guilt-wracked until grey dawn lightened his windows. By then, he realized there was something worse than guilt.

Loneliness.

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**A/N: **I apologize for Genma's crude language and behavior. I needed someone who could fit the image, and he was the easiest one to write. I hope all Genma-lovers forgive me. Our next chapter, _Separation Anxiety, _will be published Dec. 17th. See you then. =)


	15. Separation Anxiety

**A/N: **Welcome back, dear readers and lurkers, to another installment of "Cat's Mask". Please be aware that there is much angst and agonizing, but a delightful reward at the end. Enjoy!

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**Chapter Fifteen: Separation Anxiety**

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He slid out of bed and showered. Ino. Kakashi. Guilt. Loneliness. Brewed coffee but didn't drink any. Ino. Kakashi. Guilt. Loneliness. Put bread in the toaster but didn't eat it when it popped. Ino. Kakashi. Guilt. Loneliness. Stood in the middle of his living room trying to think of what he'd been thinking of doing. He settled on completing items on his continuous to-do list for around the house.

Ino. Kakashi. Guilt. Loneliness. Every second. Every minute, each hour, all day. When would it end? It would never end. He didn't bother going to bed and by dawn the following day, he'd crossed off the last item on the to-do list. But now he had a whole new day to get through. He was so tired. Waiting was agony. Guilt was worse agony. _Missing Ino_ should kill him and put him out of his misery. It didn't. His chest ached, the headache from two days ago still throbbed- -no amount of aspirin helped- -and his land-sensors indicated an arrival.

Not Ino, but Kakashi. Acute disappointment resulted in a torrent of self-loathing. Drawing himself up, he prepared to put on the show of his lifetime. Espionage and deep-undercover missions were never his forte; maybe he could play at being sick, a cold or something…anything to get Kakashi to leave him alone. He sprawled out on the couch, pulled the blanket up to his chin, wadded up some tissue to leave on the coffee table. Did he look pathetic? He felt like it. Tossed an arm over his eyes like the light hurt.

On cue, Kakashi let himself into the front. "Tenz…ou?"

He'd seen. The door closed. Yamato listened to Kakashi's footsteps over the floor, felt his presence hover over the couch.

"Tenzou?" The voice held a soft, concerned note. It hurt. "Tenzou, are you all right?"

A hand rested on his chest, a bulls-eye on the aching pain; he didn't expect the contact to worsen the ache and jolted from it. Kakashi pressed his hands on Yamato's shoulders, stilling him. The touch gave the guilt tremendous power, set his heart hammering in his chest and as pained as it was, it didn't slow.

"Easy, easy. It's me." The shape of Kakashi's eye told Yamato everything. "I'm here to check on you. You're pale." Yamato flinched when Kakashi stroked a thumb under Yamato's eye and it stung. He said, "You don't look like you've been getting sleep. Is that so?"

Yamato nodded, afraid of speaking because of what he could say. How easy would it be? Just: _Kakashi, I had sex with Ino. I'm sorry. Please, please stay. I'm not leaving you behind…_

Kakashi sighed. Then he said, "Rest here. Don't move."

Yamato rested and didn't move. He listened to Kakashi move around the kitchen, heard him set the kettle on to boil, and the clack of two mugs on the counter. Kakashi crossed the floor and sat at the edge of the couch. He peeled off a glove then cupped Yamato's forehead. Kakashi's hand was rough and hot and soothing. Yamato had to bite back a fresh wave of needling guilt.

_Kakashi, I'm no good. I'm a liar. In fact, I'm lying to you right now. I'm a traitor to our promise. I slept with Ino, and I didn't mean it. That's a lie too. I'm sorry. I just want your admiration._

"You don't seem to have a fever." Kakashi removed the hand, but placed it on Yamato's arm. The touch burned his skin through the sleeve. "Are you nauseous?"

Yamato nodded, praying Kakashi would leave and knowing it was not possible. Yamato had been too good of an actor, and now that Kakashi was concerned, he wouldn't leave until Yamato felt better. Or _acted_ like he felt better. Whatever Kakashi was brewing, he'd drink it and make a rapid recovery. Leave me here to be guilty and lonely as I deserve, he thought, and closed his eyes because keeping them open allowed him to see Kakashi's care.

Kakashi left the couch. Some time passed. Yamato heard the whistle of the kettle in an abstract way. Then the couch cushion dipped and he felt Kakashi sit beside him again.

"Sit up," said Kakashi. Hands grabbed under Yamato's elbows and forced him upright. He opened his eyes when he felt a hot mug in his hand. "Drink it."

Yamato drank the dark tea. The smell of it eased some of his headache and the heat of it calmed his heart. He sat in silence, staring ahead, fighting with his heavy eyelids. Stay awake. Stay awake to serve your punishment. He put a hand against the side of his head. Darkness edged his vision. He hated himself. He deserved the punishment. Stay awake. Serve it.

Kakashi observed him. Yamato reached out, but even his arm was heavy. "Ka…kashi…" _I don't deserve such care from you. You are too good to be making me tea. I'm sorry. I slept with Ino and it won't happen again. Don't go._

Kakashi tugged on Yamato's wrist, toppling Yamato over to his side on the couch. Yamato fought and struggled with the darkness, but Kakashi was again sitting next to him and this time, the hitai-ate was up and the Sharingan's red pierced him.

"You're always so resistant, Tenzou," Kakashi murmured. "Let go."

The eye spun. Yamato fell back into nothingness. Floated in nothing. Felt nothing, saw nothing, heard nothing, _thought _nothing. It was precious relief. How long he floated in that nothingness, he didn't know, but when he flicked his eyes open, he remembered Kakashi's eye and writhing in guilt-stricken agony.

At least the guilt didn't seem to weigh his heart like a sack of bricks. Kakashi had left him on the couch. Sunlight hurt his eyes. Birds chirped. He heard movement, low murmurs. They were on the back porch. Yamato sat up and peered through the window. Ah. Sakura and Kakashi. Had Kakashi been worried enough to bring Sakura over?

Yamato stood. Bones and joints in his neck and shoulders cracked into place. He was hungry and he needed to brush his teeth. Teeth first. He went upstairs to the bathroom, took care of some business. How long had he been out? Probably a few hours; maybe a day. Good. It was a day he didn't have to suffer through waiting for Ino.

Come home, Ino, then come home to _me._ Where was she? Had she come back only to be sent on another mission? Lady Hokage was sometimes too cruel. His face in the mirror looked pale and lined. The anxiety and guilt were showing.

"Captain? Where are you?" Sakura called.

He left the bathroom and trod into the living room where Kakashi and Sakura stood. There was some tension in the air. Had they disagreed? He should defuse the situation. Sakura would find nothing wrong if she examined him. He didn't want proximity or to be touched anyway.

"Master Kakashi tells me you haven't been feeling well," Sakura said, "so I thought I'd come over and see if I could help."

Yamato smiled. He hoped it didn't look as fake as it felt. "Yes, I wasn't feeling well, but I'm better now. It was a…a twenty-four hour bug or something. Thank you, though."

"If you're feeling better," said Kakashi, hands in his pockets, "then you can help Naruto with his new technique. It seems as though he needs your Wood Release techniques as practice."

No. I just want to be alone. "Sounds good," he lied. "Can I meet you over there? I should eat some breakfast."

"Are you sure?" Sakura took a small step forward and everything in Yamato coiled to spring away should she reach out. "You still seem…a little sick."

"I'm fine. You both go ahead and I'll meet up with you as soon as I'm ready," he told her.

He stepped around them and escaped into the kitchen. Gave them wide berth. Now that he'd lied to Sakura, he'd lost his appetite. She and Kakashi murmured and he watched as Sakura left. Kakashi hung by the door. Mentally urging Kakashi to leave did not make it happen. Kakashi shut the backdoor and came to stand with Yamato in the kitchen. Where Kakashi had taken position left no escape for Yamato, so he continued the act of looking for breakfast.

"You can stop now," Kakashi said. "Sakura's gone."

Caught. Yamato stopped rummaging around and faced Kakashi. His heart was in his throat. Kakashi knew something. All Yamato could do was wait for Kakashi to tell him.

"I haven't seen you so distraught since the Third died," Kakashi continued. He moved in; when Yamato stepped back, Kakashi halted. "Does what Anko said really hurt you that much?

Oh. Kakashi thought this was about Orochimaru and the Third. Yamato's guilt exploded in his chest. _No. I slept with Ino…_"You know I don't like talking about that." The words were difficult to get out.

"True. But that doesn't mean you _can't _talk about it." Kakashi again approached closer and as Yamato retreated, the counter dug into his back. There was nowhere else to go. "The thing about grief is that it can sneak up on you. You may not feel it at the time you're _supposed _to feel it, but eventually, it'll work its way free."

Kakashi was within arm's reach and as soon as that hand went up, Yamato knew that if that hand put pressure on his chest, all self-control would be lost and the whole stupid story would spill out. The fear of losing Kakashi had stopped him from speaking of his sins, but if he allowed Kakashi to put that hand on him, everything would be revealed.

Deep inside, Yamato felt a shaking, an inner-rumbling. That Kakashi would advance on Yamato's vulnerability, instead of leaving him alone and waiting for him to speak freely, dredged up a gush of hot anger. The guilt shrank back, cowed by that angry blaze. If Kakashi was so patient, he'd wait for Yamato to be comfortable enough to initiate the conversation.

"Back off, Hatake," Yamato snapped, "and don't touch me."

Kakashi's hand hung, suspended in air. Digesting the words and how they were spoken. That Yamato had always deferred to Kakashi and rarely used a last name to address a person. Yamato could tell Kakashi was surprised at the sudden fight and was debating whether he should disregard Yamato's comment. If Kakashi continued to reach out, Yamato was prepared to fight. But Kakashi's arm relaxed down to his side. He went backwards a few steps, enough that Yamato had breathing room, but close enough to be in proximity.

Kakashi sighed. "Don't get angry at me for trying to help."

"I just…don't want to talk about it," replied Yamato, and he couldn't control the anger lacing his words. "Please leave so I can eat breakfast and get ready. I'll see you at the training grounds."

Then Kakashi didn't move, but stood looking at Yamato. It nerved Yamato into saying, "_What_?"

"I don't want to let you out of sight," he said. His hands ducked into his pockets. The calm demeanor maddened Yamato. "You might run away, if I do."

He'd heard that from someone before, but he was too annoyed and angered to give it much thought. At this point, Kakashi was negotiating with Yamato, essentially telling Yamato, 'I'll leave you alone, but I want to be near you.' Fine. As long as Kakashi didn't prod for answers, Yamato would accept those terms.

Kakashi didn't bother Yamato as he ate breakfast- -toast that didn't taste like anything- -and finished dressing. The silence blanketed them and had weight. Yamato didn't care. All he wanted was room to breathe.

Training with Naruto did distract Yamato some from the anxiety over Ino and the guilt, but he could tell he was sending out strong 'stay the hell away from me' vibes. Sakura tried a few times to engage him in conversation, but stopped after she couldn't get more than a nod or a grunt out of him.

After a third time of being scared into submission, Naruto sniffed and said, "Damn, Captain. You're in a mood."

Yes, he supposed he was. He opened his mouth to fire off a retort, but Kakashi intervened. "Yamato's tired. Leave him alone."

Naruto did. The day waned into evening, and Kakashi, as watchful as ever, walked Yamato home. In the hall, Yamato felt Kakashi's quiet presence blocking him in from behind and a warning tingle raced down his spine. Was Kakashi going to cage him in?

"Tenzou?" Kakashi's hand came to Yamato's side. Luckily, the flak jacket blocked the feeling. "You'll be okay alone?"

Yamato brushed off Kakashi's hand. "Yes. Thank you for your trouble."

"All right, then. I'll swing by tomorrow morning. Goodnight."

Kakashi left Yamato to the quiet shadowed halls of his home. The guilt had backed off, but he realized, it wasn't what he was feeling. More than the guilt, he felt Ino's absence. And standing there, blinking in the dark, Yamato couldn't bear being in his own house anymore. He had to get out. When he crashed through the door, he had no idea where he was going, just that he had to _move _or he would never break free.

He sprinted, using chakra to jump to the very tops of trees and buildings, flying as fast and as hard as he could, listening to his heartbeat as it worked blood through his veins, breathing deeply the night air with a pall of rain. Motion. That act of moving forward, _away._ He kept up the frenetic pace for as long as he could, just going, going, going until his lungs begged him to slow. Resting against the tree he'd stopped in, Yamato oriented himself, and discovered that he ended up at Ino's apartment building.

Being inside her home would be like being in her presence. Right? He wouldn't stay long. Just a quick fix. Just something to get him through tonight. He bounded up the balconies to hers and slipped inside with the use of wood jutsu. All was undisturbed. In the middle of the room, Yamato closed his eyes and breathed. Oh, yes. _Yes_. It _was _like being with her. The smell of the place- -clean and feminine- -made him think of her streaming hair. The ache in his chest, that weight the guilt hung on his heart, lightened.

He should be satisfied with standing in the living room and inhaling, but he needed more. "Don't be creepy," he told the empty apartment. "This is creepy."

He couldn't be satisfied. Not listening to himself, he moved to the bedroom. The linens on the bed had been turned back and he found a little card on the pillow. He used his penlight to examine it. On the card was a quick sketch of a tree. That represented him, he was sure. This was…an invitation to sleep here, in her bed. He should not. He should not accept it. But lying in her bed would put him closer to her, if only a little.

Yamato shed his clothes down to his boxers and slipped into her bed before he could chicken out. The sheets held her smell, and it was like she was all around him, her warmth and empathy and intelligence. He would not stay long. He would lie here and feel better and then leave. No one would ever know. His eyes shut.

What woke him wasn't sunlight or natural urges. It was humming. Light and soothing, the sound drew him up from the heavy sleep he succumbed to. Fingers stroked through his hair and he felt someone close to him. Please let it be Ino, he thought, praying, before opening his eyes. He saw a mane of pale blonde hair. Then the sky in her eyes. She nestled closer; he was on his side and his arms were around her and it was everything right.

"Hi," she whispered, smiling. "Did you miss me?"

"Yes." A different feeling poured through his chest, one that obliterated the anxiety and guilt and self-loathing, freeing up his lungs so he could breathe again. "I didn't like waiting."

"You look haggard," she said. She leaned so she could kiss his eyes. First the left then the right. "Waiting doesn't wear on you well."

"Are you tired?"

Ino sighed and relaxed back. "Unbelievably. When you said she'd roll me, you didn't say she'd throw me down the damn hill."

He laughed at that, relieved with her nearness and good humor, and when her bare shoulder tempted him, he smoothed his hand over it, curving around to her back and spreading his fingers across the satin fabric of her nightshirt. The shirt showed great cleavage so he nibbled a trail down her neck to the valley of her breasts. She giggled and squirmed, rubbing up along a part very interested in her.

"Stop wiggling," he told her and pulled her flush against him. She smelled shower-fresh. "How am I supposed to get my hands on you if you move?"

She gasped when one of his enterprising hands fisted in the shirt and whipped it over her head. "I'm sure you'll find a way."

His brain halted as he admired the breasts with peaked nipples. Last time she'd been topless, he'd been attempting to avert his gaze, and thankfully, he didn't have to now since the line had already been crossed and there was no going back. He ran a hand over the swell of them, detected an increase in her breathing, and leaned to swirl a tongue over one of those very pink buds. She uttered a swear word, and her hand curled in his hair, encouraging him. And when his other hand traveled over skin to tease the twin, fingertips rolling the capped nipple between them, she cried out so violently, his body throbbed in response and he could feel the pulse pound in his chest.

Removing his mouth from her breast and applying it to her neck, he dispensed of her tiny shorts in the same manner as the shirt, caressing the round cheeks. He wanted to torture her a little more, but Ino's hands were already tugging down his boxers, helping him as he struggled to free his legs. They managed it and before Ino could take action, he collected her slim wrists in one hand and pinned them over her head.

"I'm not ready yet," he told her.

"But _I _am."

Then to his surprise, she growled and snapped her teeth at him. He didn't think it possible to be any more turned on, but he was, his groin tight and hot. "Wildcat."

She smiled and yet retained a predatory glint in her eyes. "You like it."

Yes. Yes, he did. He kissed her, tongue tracing her lips and causing her to groan when he tamed her demanding tongue. Keeping one hand firmly on her wrists, he dipped the other between her legs, touching a finger along the heated cleft and found her slick. Testing and showing slight cruelty, he slipped a couple fingers inside her. Her hips jumped; she strained against his hold, grunting plaintively. One of her legs hooked around his calf.

Finding her so wet, pliant, set him off. He couldn't wait, not even to tease her. Impatiently, he drew up on his knees, releasing her wrists, and running his hands over the soft curves of her hips and thighs. Ino sighed and spread wide her legs, offering, and arched her back- -levering her hips for him- -when he smoothly penetrated her. As before, her relaxed body accepted his entirety.

"Hm, Yamato," she said, breathlessly, her eyes on his, "I've been wanting this."

Words failed him. He hadn't realized how she affected him with her absence. The feeling was like withering in the dark until she came with her light and heat. Oh, her heat was delicious. He pulled his hips along hers and falling into the rhythm that he'd set with her their first time, he kept so far inside her, so close to her, all the guilt and loneliness crumbled into dust. An ember glowed, dim, but present, in bottom of his heart, and he wanted badly to stoke it. A promise prevented him from doing so.

Then Ino's noises went up in pitch; her muscles flexed and fluttered around him, his skin burned, his abdominal muscles clenched tight, a crest of light and emotion flung him up and out, and he imagined that a falling star must feel like this, a streak of white brilliancy and molten heat across a darkened sky then blinking out and diving to earth. He shuddered in completion; felt her do the same.

They lay together in a boneless heap, hearts pumping, breathing gulps of air. All the turmoil had quieted, settled. Inside his head was still. Even though his equilibrium had been reset and he felt back to normal, he realized he needed to address this relationship business sooner, not later.

"Welcome home," he said, half-joking.

She laughed. "Quite a homecoming, I'd say. Now tell me why you were all pathetic and curled up in my bed."

He grimaced at her accurate assessment of his prior condition. "Ino…I need to tell you this before we get too…involved." She rolled so she was facing him, and he continued under her intense gaze that clearly reminded him they _were _too involved. "I want you to know that Kakashi is my oldest friend and he's…my priority. Do you understand?"

Her hand cupped the side of his face. "Of course I understand. I would never want to divide you and Kakashi."

He wasn't sure what he'd expected, since her reassuring statement took him by surprise. "Thank you. I also want to keep what we're doing discreet."

"Discreet? You mean, you're not going to tell Kakashi about us?"

The explanation was far too complex and at the moment, unnecessary. He threaded his fingers through her pale hair, knowing he should trust her with the weight of his past, but also knowing entrusting her with it would make the relationship harder to walk away from.

"Yes," he told her. "I don't want Kakashi knowing about us. Please don't ask why."

She frowned and her eyebrows furrowed, but even as she showed her displeasure with his request, her thumb rubbed along his mouth, gently. "Will you ever open up to me?"

That question nailed him in the center of his chest. He took her hand and upturned her palm to press a kiss against it. "Be patient. I'm trying the best I can."

Her moue told him what she thought of being patient. "Fine. But I think you should tell Kakashi so you're not keeping a secret from him."

"Not all of us wear our heart on our sleeve."

"Don't give me that," she said, tugging her hand from his grip, and he could tell there was a fight brewing. "I know you enough that you'll feel guilty for keeping something like this from him."

He shrugged, bracing his arms around her to snuggle her closer to him, her back to his front and his skin basked in her radiant warmth. She tensed, but didn't struggle. "Then let me feel guilty."

"Famous last words," she said, relaxing into the circle of his arms. "If anything, he'll figure it out for himself long before you deign to tell him."

Let that be a problem for later, he thought, touching her stomach lazily. He rested his face in the nape of her neck, sleep pressing in on him from all sides. Later.

* * *

**A/N: **Did you like that, yes/no? Expect the next chapter, _Close and Comfortable, _on Dec. 31st or thereabouts. Enjoy your holidays, everyone, and I'll return to consistent posting Jan. 7th.


	16. Close and Comfortable

**A/N: **Welcome back, faithful readers and lurkers. I hope you had a wonderful holiday break and are prepared for another chapter of "Behind the Cat's Mask". Please, enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: Close and Comfortable**

* * *

Later came sooner than expected. Yamato woke when Ino suddenly bolted upright in bed, bringing him up with her since he'd not removed his arms from around her. Her shoulders rose and fell with her surprised breathing.

"What?"

"Kakashi's coming," she said. Her eyes were the size of plates. "What do you want to do?"

Shit. Damn. _Damn!_ Startled into action, Yamato hopped out of bed and started hustling on his clothes, cursing inwardly and yanking them right-side out. Not the morning he'd imagined waking up to. "Tell him I dropped by, but I left. I was checking on you. And nothing more. I'll use Wood jutsu to escape."

She nodded and hauled on her nightshirt and shorts over her lovely body. Her face turned hopeful. "Will I see you later?"

"Well," he smiled, his heart thundering- -he should get some space, some goddamn distance- -"we have a combination jutsu to master, don't we? Let's meet at the training grounds and continue working."

Her smile gleamed in the half-light; he didn't stop from moving around the bed and grabbing a handful of that hair to capture her in a goodbye kiss that melted all the bones in his body and had him seriously reconsider leaving. Kakashi did not need to know, however, so when Ino pushed out of his grasp and strode to the front, Yamato moved through the wood of the apartment building and after zipping his fly and the flak jacket, plus tying his bootlaces, he dashed to the ANBU headquarters to get the training grounds unlocked. They accommodated him and told him they'd send out a groundskeeper ASAP.

Yamato made a quick stop at home to brush his teeth, but rushed off to beat Kakashi and Ino there. He accomplished this. Not much time passed before Anko came to unlock the ANBU training grounds for him and he cursed his piss-poor luck. Her eyes were exceedingly interested in him as he unsealed the gates she'd unchained. Nerves prickled along his shoulder blades.

"You look tired, dearest Yamato," she said, shoving the heavy keys into her coat pocket. "Did some sweet thing keep you up all night?"

"I'm quite well rested, thank you," he responded to her dig.

Flustered, yes, from escaping Kakashi, but tired, no. When she approached, he resisted the urge to step back, remembering well her filed nails. Her fingers touched his forehead. His _bare_ forehead- -shit- -which meant he must've left his hatsuburi at Ino's. How'd he miss that? Would Kakashi see it? No. Perhaps if he went to the bedroom, and Kakashi wasn't that type of person. Not that Yamato knew of, anyway.

Anko hissed a chuckle, which translated to a warning for him. "Looks like she kept a trophy."

"I assure you that's not the case." Talking to Anko felt like talking to a horny schizoid war vet. Confusing, with the potential of being killed and/or sexually assaulted at any time. "How're things with you and Genma?"

"Heh. He still has his dick in a twist about not fucking you the last time at Leaf Blown." She leaned in, the tooth necklace swinging forward. "Be careful. He's on the prowl for you."

He feigned surprise. "For me? I thought for sure he was after Ino."

"She's an added bonus. Ah, we have company."

To his relief, and consternation, Kakashi and Ino landed on either side of Anko. Ino wore the usual Konoha uniform with her flak jacket, and hair tied up in that long ponytail he loved. Her features were neutral and gave nothing away. But her mouth begged to be kissed; his burned from their kiss from less than an hour ago.

Kakashi's hand rose in that lazy half-wave. "Yamato. I've been looking for you."

"I apologize if you missed me," Yamato answered. Anko's presence irritated him. No doubt she wanted to see if her suspicions were founded. "I've been around."

Kakashi blinked. "Ino told me you'd dropped in on her and that you'd left to come here. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to do some team exercises?"

"Let's do boys versus girls." The fact Anko had invited herself went ignored as her face crawled into a maniacal smirk. Great. It'd take a miracle to induce Anko's departure. "Winner gets an orgy. It's win-win."

He kept his tone and gaze level. "I'm afraid not. Ino and I are working on a new jutsu. We need the time to develop it."

"Ino, hunh?" Anko turned aside, and Yamato watched, a ball of hardened emotion forming in his chest, as Anko petted Ino, stroking a hand over and down the blonde ribbon. "She's a very hard worker. Isn't that right?"

Ino flushed then glared ice at Anko. A meaningful look passed between them. Yamato watched as Anko's face softened and her physical presence lessened, actually diminishing under Ino's look.

Anko released Ino's ponytail. "I'll leave you to it. Good luck." She was gone a moment later. One down. One to go. Yamato turned his attention to unflappable Kakashi.

"Such a strange woman," Kakashi murmured. Louder, he said, "I still want to see what you've accomplished so far."

"To be honest…not much." Ino stepped to stand beside Yamato as she addressed Kakashi. "We had started working on it when we were called up for a mission. Can we show you when we've made some significant progress?"

Kakashi rubbed the corner of his eye and shrugged. "Another time then. I was hoping to gather Team 7 for a training session though. Let me know when's a good time."

"We will," Yamato said, nudging Ino. "We'll be starting now."

They separated, and he and Ino jumped into an easy run across the branches in the ANBU training grounds. Anko's behavior struck him as odd, not that her behavior _wasn't_ odd all the time, but in this case, Anko's actions toward Ino were stranger than her usual oddness. Like Anko and Ino were familiar. Like they had worked together on more than a single mission and Anko wanted Yamato to know.

Stop. Stop it. He trusted Ino. She'd saved his ass and had put her life on the line for him. But he couldn't help wondering. How did Ino and Anko know each other?

"What did Anko mean by saying you're a hard worker?" He couldn't prevent the stupid question from leaving his mouth. If he sounded suspicious then so be it. "What was that strange touch for?"

Ino, beside him, motioned with her hand to show how inconsequential it all was. "Anko's part of the Interrogation Squad with my father. They always got along and she's kept tabs on me, I suppose. The touch was her way of teasing me."

Satisfied, Yamato went quiet, but he noticed Ino fighting a smile. "What?"

"Nothing. Just that…she seemed pretty occupied with you. She's not usually torn away from Genma."

He laughed. "Awhile back, she ardently ripped off my pants, but then left me alone in favor of Genma. Now Genma seems to be interested in me…so Anko is messing with both of us."

"She'd have you'n'Genma in the sack if she could manage it. Are you planning on taking up Genma's offer?"

When he cringed, she laughed. He said, "I think Genma is exacting revenge on Anko for some reason. I prefer not to be involved in revenge plots. They tend to get…messy."

"Too complicated, you mean," she replied. He did not miss the twinkle in her eye.

"I wanted to warn you that Genma might try to come after you." He clenched his jaw because he would sound overprotective and jealous, but it was how he felt, dammit. "I know we're not exclusive or anything, but I don't want you getting tangled with him. Please."

Her grin didn't assuage him. "My Prince Charming warning me from the big, bad wolf yet again."

"Ino."

"And I don't think Genma's so bad…he's as messed up as the rest of us," she continued. He knew she was teasing him and he got annoyed with it. "Maybe with Anko there, his issues won't be quite as intense."

"I highly doubt his fucking everything with a pulse will resolve any of his issues."

"You know I was kidding. No need to be grouchy."

"Genma sounds off my alarms." He concentrated on hopping among the tree branches. "I want you to be careful around him. You're beautiful and interesting and good at flirting and all that might get Genma fixated on having you."

Her silence drew his attention and he saw the secret little smile tucked in the corner of her mouth. He didn't like that she wasn't taking his warning seriously, but he was her mission partner, not her…brother or family member or whatever. Telling her his thoughts would have to suffice; she'd do her own thing regardless.

"I think," she said, quietly, "that he's more interested in tearing you away from Kakashi then wrangling me into bed with him. He's probably going to try and use me to get to you. And I think you're right that he's doing all this to stick it to Anko."

"Whatever the case may be, let's not get drawn into it," he answered.

She didn't respond and he hoped that meant she agreed. They came to their special area and settled in to work on the combination jutsu. Almost immediately when they attempted the transfer jutsu, he felt something wrong. The wrongness was inside of Ino, and as a concerned partner, _not _being overprotective and overbearing, he allowed his mind to travel along the open link to explore what the problem seemed to be. She wasn't feeling well- -nausea- -and he listened to her thoughts come to the conclusion that she was not yet recovered from being rolled. Exhaustion was her diagnosis.

_We shouldn't push it,_ he told her through the mind-link. _The jutsu takes it out of you too much for us risking serious complications._

_You're right,_ she answered. A resigned sigh resonated to him. _I'm ending the mind-link._

When she stepped around to face him, she looked blanched and worn. He said, "I'll go home with you. I left my hatsuburi somewhere in your bedroom."

"Sure. But I don't recommend you stay over." Her mouth tilted up. "Kakashi seemed anxious when I talked to him."

"Anxious?" Kakashi?

"His overall presence was…restless. He'd said he'd been looking for you for a couple days," Ino added. "Out of curiosity, how long were you hiding out in my bed?"

Interesting that Ino would describe Kakashi as 'anxious'. Kakashi never seemed anxious. As much as he wanted to press for information, it was time to change the subject. "So am I going to have to worry about Papa Bear protecting Baby Bear?" Yamanaka Inoichi was definitely the Papa Bear-type.

"There's only so many times changing the subject will save your ass."

He cleared his throat, caught red-handed but unapologetic. "It's a legitimate concern if your dad'll castrate me if he finds out I'm sleeping with you."

"Hold on," she laughed wryly. "'Sleeping' denotes multiple occasions. We've had sex _twice. _Besides that's _if_ he finds out. We're not telling anyone. And he won't castrate you, per se. He'll want to dig around in your head for any unresolved issues that might get in your way of making me happy."

Oh, joy. "I think I prefer the threat of castration."

"Don't be a wuss."

"Let me put it this way. I've heard stories about your dad that even make Kakashi go clammy."

She laughed, and did not deny her father's pursuits or argue with him further. Comfortable silence lasted until they arrived at Ino's apartment. He followed her up the stairs, going to the front door for a change, and into her residence, where he waited in the living room for her to return with his hatsuburi. When she handed it to him, he adjusted it over his head and settled it comfortably on his forehead. _Now _he was back to normal.

"You know," she said, touching along his jaw with a light finger, "your hatsuburi is the sexiest thing."

Her touch had a heat charge attached, one that sizzled a trail straight to his gut. "I seem to attract all the ladies with it."

"Is that so?"

"Hm-hm. Sakura tells me it gives off an air of mystery."

Their conversation had lowered into murmurs. Yamato caressed Ino's hand with his own, opening her palm to kiss it and the silken white wrist under the hem of her long-sleeved shirt. The atmosphere around them fluxed from light-hearted to straight passion, and he leaned to fit his mouth over hers. Soft warmth there. He'd kissed her a few hours ago, but as he'd come to discover, kissing Ino never tired him and always left him wanting more.

The kiss slowed time, or felt like it did, and if it didn't, it sure as hell should have. Ino's eyelashes fluttered on his cheek, her arms circling around his neck, and his bringing her in to his chest. Did she feel how hard his heart beat? They both inhaled when he changed the angle of the kiss, deepening it, the connection, the emotion, intensifying the flames licking up from his groin, seeping from his darkest places to his skin. Alive. He felt alive and without bounds or restrictions and he had to step back before he lost all control.

Instead of listening to logic, he tilted her head to the side and kissed her ear, fingers folding down the high collar of her shirt so he could lave her pulse point where her flower perfume intoxicated him. Had to quit while he was ahead, but even as he consciously recognized the need to pull away, he didn't care and kept feeding the white-hot fire consuming him. Clearly, his brain and body were in disagreement, and he'd managed a hard-on within the minute of their kissing.

"Nuh-uh, Yamato," she whispered when he unzipped her flak jacket, "save it for Kakashi."

She was right, he hated it, but he felt better when he rubbed the sides of her breasts and extricated a whimper from her.

He stroked his nose along her hairline. "I suppose you'll keep."

"Like I'm some sort of meat product?" Her tease was half-hearted. "Get going before you change your mind and stay."

He allowed his hands to massage circles into those appealing breasts and erect nipples grazed his palms even through three layers of fabric. Damn, she was so sexy. A knee wedged between his legs, and he heard fabric rustle as a slender thigh lifted to put slight pressure on a very hardened part of him. That pressure sent curls of arousal all through his gut; he ached.

"Perhaps I've already changed my mind." His voice had gone husky. He groaned when her thigh shifted deliberately along his erection. The burst of pleasure tensed all his muscles. "_Ino_."

"You're," a gasp interrupted her words- -he'd closed his teeth over her earlobe, "so bad."

"Downright despicable," he breathed, flicking her flak jacket off her shoulders. "Bedroom. Now."

As he gently shoved her down the hallway, she put up the pretense of a fight. "But! Are you sure this is a good idea?" He clamped his arms around hers and used his weight to press her on. A taste for her had gathered in his mouth that he could not deny. "I mean…you have to convince Kakashi that everything's…oh!" They'd made it to the bedroom, so he shoved her a bit harder to sprawl her out on the bed.

"Yamato! This is not what we…what're you doing?"

He was at her boots- -her nail color a powder blue- -and used his teeth to tug out the knot in the laces while loosening them with his fingers. Boots were off. Then his fingers attacked the snap and zipper of her fly and quite efficiently, he shucked off her pants. When he curled his fingers around the hot pink panties, her hands grabbed his.

She had a pretty flush across her cheeks. "I insist on questioning the wisdom of- -hey!" He'd slid the panties down those smooth thighs and over her ankles.

"Be quiet and let me do this," he told her, pushing her shoulders flat and liking how she complied.

Her belly was flat and the muscles fluttered when he brushed his mouth across the taut skin spanning between her hipbones. She breathed hard, startling some as his hand tucked between her knees. Smooth heat everywhere. Hormones put up a ruckus and pushed him to go faster, harder, lower. As he eased his hand up her leg, feeling those tendons tense, he rained kisses over her stomach until he hit the junction between her thighs. Carefully, he pried her legs apart with both his hands.

There she was, in all her glory: pink, dewy, irresistible and based on her bedroom eyes, expectant. Teasing her, he kissed and lovingly bit up the inside of her thigh, hearing the air drag into her lungs as he came closer and closer to her center. And then he rolled his tongue right up that searing mound, a sweet tang coating his taste-buds. God, _yes._

"Oh, holy- -aaaah!" she cried. Her hands flew to his shoulders. "Yamato!"

She writhed and moaned enough he had to pin her hips to the bed with his hands. He explored her like that, swirling the tiny bud of nerves while alternately lapping at her taste. The response of her body was like nothing he'd ever experienced before, and that she let him have his way with her gave him such a sense of control, of power. He'd commanded soldiers in the field, sure, but the power Ino allowed him was so much different, so much more…liberating.

Ino's hands had fisted in the comforter, and he could tell she was nearing her climax because she quivered and strained against his mouth, legs trembling, knees splayed. Her noises sent shivers along his spine, heightened the ache to a hot throbbing, and even as she arched her back in orgasm, he knew he wasn't finished with her.

She went limp and sighed. "That…was good."

"Happy to oblige."

He wiped a sleeve across his mouth. Each swallow drew her taste into his throat, stirred his want for her to a rabid frenzy. Kakashi never caused this much of a response. Why could he not leave her alone?

"Hold still," he said. "And hang on."

As she lay, contented, he shoved off his pants and underwear and dragged her to closer to the bed's edge, which was at the perfect level for him to sink into her and slide home. He grunted from the tight heat on his most sensitive organ.

"Yamato!" Ino accepted him into her arms when he leaned over, deepening the angle. "_There_!"

Ah- -damn, she felt good and so wet from his ministrations and the fire whirled inside him, sending sparks everywhere, and he didn't know why he couldn't stop taking from her. His hips galloped at breakneck pace, Ino's moans lifting to cries in seconds, and he hated that each time they'd had sex, they didn't go about it at a more leisurely speed, but oh, God, he supposed…that…shit, his body was at the limit, pressure mounting under his stomach, stretching up and plunging into him, and he couldn't breathe, couldn't focus on any one thing alone.

Even as his mouth found Ino's, their tongues working in a similar pattern to their bodies, he wanted the quickly approaching blast of rapture to last, but Ino flexed underneath him and the rapture was all around him, an orgasm that blurred his vision and totally wiped his mind as his tight muscles rippled with pleasure and too soon, went lax. And the blaze quieted to an ember, pulsating with heat and glow; he felt so relieved and easy.

Her sigh expressed how he felt. Light fingers brushed along his face, and when they passed over his mouth, he kissed each one and was treated to Ino's giggle. Warmth hung on him enough that to move meant breaking the bubble of comfort surrounding them. He did not want to go, but he knew he couldn't stay. She'd been right about smoothing Kakashi's feathers.

"You're leaving?" she asked when he pushed up and pulled out of her. At his nod, she added, "Be sure to shower and change your clothes. I hear Kakashi's got a keen sense of smell."

He fastened up his pants. "Yes. That's very accurate. Let's restart our training in three days."

"Three days should be enough time for me to get my energy back." She stood on her knees and was eye-to-eye with him. "Does this mean that you're not going to- -"

Her unfinished statement was paired with a frown, and he understood what she hadn't said. "No. I won't come around during that time. It's best we keep as low a profile as possible."

"I understand."

His heart did this weird fluttering in his chest at her disappointed words, enough so that he gave in and wrapped his arms around her. The bear hug came with a flurry of kissing- -mouths, cheeks, eyes- -before he could separate from her. Hair a tousled mess, underwear ignored, she walked him to the front room and opened the balcony doors for him. Warm afternoon air flooded over them, the scent of pavement and baked buildings and sunlight.

"Goodbye. And good luck with Kakashi," she told him.

"I'll see you in a few days."

"Yes."

He stepped out of her living room to leap into the tall trees surrounding her apartment building. After a couple bounds, he stopped to look back, not even sure what possessed him to do so. She watched him from the balcony with an unreadable expression. Yamato turned and traveled home, more slowly than usual, the whole way wondering why he felt like he'd left something intangible and extremely significant behind with her, and why that something felt culled out of his chest.

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**A/N:** Yamato and Ino are certainly getting hot'n'heavy now! All of it makes me grin and rub my hands in anticipation. On any account, I hope you've so far enjoyed the story, because this chapter marks the halfway point from beginning to end. The next chapter, _Two's Company_, will come to you on Jan. 7th. See you then. =)


	17. Two's Company

**A/N:** Welcome back, dear readers and lurkers, to another chapter of "Behind the Cat's Mask". I hope you enjoy.

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**Chapter Seventeen: Two's Company**

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After leaving Ino, Yamato found that Kakashi was not waiting for him at home, nor did he show up later that evening. Yamato used the time to shower and dress (just in case), and of course, to care for his neglected plants. All were hale and hardy, so he went to bed feeling pretty good. Refreshed, actually, and relaxed.

A coded message came to him the next morning calling him in for an emergency mission. He left immediately, fretting over Ino and whether she would be called in, and confirmed his fears when he arrived in front of Lady Hokage's desk after changing into his ANBU gear and Ino was standing there as well. They received their mission orders- -the extraction of information and neutralization of the potential threat- -and headed out immediately.

Ino had linked them up after receiving their mission orders. He couldn't help the need he had to know how she felt since she'd barely had any break between these missions.

_Ino?_ he thought, testing the mind-link. There was a buzz of her thoughts.

_Yeah?_

_You feeling any better?_

On her end, he felt her accepting his question and computing it. Rapidly, she generated a few responses, some that weren't honest and the ones that were had a garnish of anxiety, as if she knew he wouldn't like her reply. He waited for her to decide what she'd tell him, and he had the feeling that she was blocking him from 'hearing' everything.

_I still feel like shit,_ she ended up admitting. _Nauseous, drained, and I think I might have a temperature._

Clearly, Ino should not be on this mission. None of her symptoms had been related to Lady Hokage because there was no point. Lady Hokage called them in for their specific skill-set and illness or not, they were the only ones who could have a chance of mission completion.

_Sounds like you're coming down with the flu, _he told her. _Think you can hold up for the mission?_

_I'll suppress as many of the symptoms as I can, but the sooner we can get back home, the better I'll feel._

They fell into professional silence as they swiftly covered the distance to the target's last known location. Without much difficulty, they tracked the target, extracted the information, and neutralized the woman. After they slipped out of town and closed in on their home border, Ino abruptly halted and bent double, planting her hands on her knees.

"I can't…I can't…" She panted behind her mask, her chest-plate heaving in time with her lungs. That she didn't converse over the mind-link spoke to him volumes. "Too fast."

He didn't rush her as she caught her breath. She'd held up amazingly well for the journey and the mission, but he could tell her condition had deteriorated. They'd not used much jutsu; however, the continued use of it to suppress her symptoms had more than likely worn her down into such a state of exhaustion that she couldn't keep it up. Added to that their speed to return to Fire soil.

"Okay. I think…we're a go."

"You sure?" he asked. He reached out with a hand to touch her coiled hair, but realizing what he'd done, he dropped his arm. "Take as much time as you need."

"No." Breathless. "We need to get home ASAP with this intelligence."

"Ready on your go," he answered, acquiescing to her.

They went. She tired quickly and needed frequent stops to search for ginger, which she chewed on constantly and did not even spit out in favor of the dried, preserved food that was given as rations to ANBU. He never strayed far from her shoulder, resisting the constant urge to prod her mind into action. Since the first stop, she'd maintained radio-silence so he respected her want for privacy even if he didn't like it.

When the enormous walls of Hidden Leaf broke from the flat and tree-populated horizon, what Ino didn't express in words, she expressed adequately in the relief that hummed over the link. All through the debriefing with Lady Hokage, he sensed Ino's restlessness, stemming from the need to collapse in a heap at the most convenient opportunity. He took measures to speed up the meeting, and when at last they were dismissed and had slipped from the Hokage's Office, Ino did fall over to her knees.

The mind-link dissipated entirely, so he whispered encouragement to her as he hooked her arm over his neck and supported her on his hip. Weakly, she stumbled with him to the locker rooms. No resistance when he pulled the mask from her face.

"Ino!" he said, his heart wincing upon seeing her pale countenance. Her eyes had a dark, sunken look. "You need some rest."

She blinked slowly and he wasn't sure if she heard him or not.

Methodically, he stripped and peeled the ANBU gear from her weary body, and helped her into the shower, where she leaned against the walls for support, and allowed him to soap and rinse her without a fuss. His favorite part had been letting loose the coil of gold hair, unweaving the braid, and shaking the hair out. Somehow he managed to dress her- -after showering and dressing himself- -and exited the locker rooms, with her, again, slung under his arm.

They ran into Genma, of all possible people, bumping into him when they all rounded a corner at the same time. The collision knocked Ino out of the circle of his arm. She crumpled to the floor at his and Genma's feet like her legs were incapable of bearing the shock.

"What the fuck is the matter with _her_?" Genma asked, crouching down. Yamato thought he'd help her to her feet, but he lifted up her arm and let it go. Her arm fell limply with a resounding _thud_. "She drunk or some shit?"

"She's sick." _Imbecilic jackass,_ Yamato wanted to add. He got Ino standing and securely tucked under his arm. She leaned heavily into him. "She'd gotten off rotation when we were called in for an emergency mission."

Standing, Genma rolled the senbon between his teeth. "Is that so."

"I'm taking her home. If you'll excuse us?"

Genma stood aside, and Yamato felt that his eyes had become unusually bright during their quick conversation. As Yamato shuffled forward, Ino buckled, almost bringing him to his knees with the sudden weight shift. With fast reflexes, Genma had grabbed under her arm to catch her, at least, and helped adjust her onto Yamato's back. Her body did not resist their manipulations; Yamato heard slow, steady breathing.

"Must be some sickness," Genma commented.

He swept away Ino's loose hair from her face- -Yamato had not been able to gather it back in the ponytail. When Genma touched Ino, a sense of protectiveness hurtled through Yamato, enough that he had a flash-vision of his fist slamming into Genma's nose, spraying blood all over the wall. Or ripping Genma's arm around enough to pop it out of the socket and shatter the bones within. Yamato's heart rate accelerated from a spike in adrenaline that he couldn't prevent.

Then Genma said, "She's sleeping pretty hard. Last time I went to touch her she nearly bit my damn hand off."

Yamato's muscles tensed with those words, even as he worked to tame his palpitating heart. When had Genma occasion to touch Ino? Calmly, so as not to belay the flare of upset, he stepped out of Genma's reach; Genma's hand lowered, but the fingertips trailed over Yamato's chest and left a wake of frazzled nerves. "We'll be going now. Thank you for your help."

The senbon bobbed. "Not a problem, man. See you."

They departed to opposite ends of the hallway, where Yamato could swear that Genma watched him, but Yamato resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder to see. He opened the door to the stairwell and stepped through, sighing in relief for the solitude and protection the stairs provided him.

"I thought you handled that fairly well," a low voice murmured in his ear. Ino. "He's scheming, again. I can feel it."

"I thought you were sleeping?"

"Hm. Nearly…there." A huge yawn. "No…jarring stops, please."

He snorted. "Since when did I become a vehicle for your highness?"

Silence. Sleep had overtaken her. Outside was dry heat, golden sunlight, and the noise of a noon crowd writhing through the streets. Yamato avoided it all through the use of a rooftop and tree route, where he decided he'd take her to _his _home instead of her own. He saw a few other familiar shinobi that he nodded to, since his hands were full with Ino's thighs. His home was wonderfully cool and quiet, and Yamato deigned to settle Ino into a guest bed, more for his convenience than hers- -the bottom floor was where the kitchen was, at least.

As he removed her boots and flak jacket (as always), she cooed at him in her sleep. He tucked her in, and for the life of him, he couldn't understand why he felt compelled to drop a kiss on her forehead then on her mouth. Maybe because he felt sympathetic. Maybe because Genma had touched her, and Yamato wanted to reaffirm that she was with him, not Genma. Her hair was soft and thick as he passed his hand over the crown of her head, smoothing the splay of white-gold. She was with _him._

"She your new pet?" a voice asked.

Yamato jumped a foot, his heart skittering. He found Kakashi leaning against the doorframe and fought the surprise out of his voice when he answered. "We're partners. Nothing more."

"_We're_ partners, _and_ something more," Kakashi replied. His eye was on Ino. "Angelic."

Yamato stood, figuring that Kakashi had already been in the house- -upstairs in the bedroom, was his guess- -and moved across the room to Kakashi. Yamato remembered that before the mission, Kakashi had been looking for him, and that Ino had thought he'd seemed ruffled. Smooth Kakashi's feathers, Yamato remembered thinking. But so rarely was Kakashi 'ruffled' that Yamato wasn't sure how to go about it.

Yamato embraced Kakashi, saying, "Hardly. Once you're around her as much as I am, you'll find she's a pain in the ass."

Kakashi's arms wrapped around Yamato to return the warm embrace. "I've been missing you, Tenzou," he said. "I hope you don't mind. My place was getting claustrophobic."

"No, no. You're welcome here. I'm putting up Ino because she's too exhausted to care for herself. She's really run-down."

Kakashi broke from the hug and smoothly side-stepped Yamato to cross the floor and hover over Ino's reposed form. Assessing? Yamato wasn't sure, so he kept quiet and vigilant, waiting to see what Kakashi would do. When the grey eye fixed upon Yamato, he felt the full force of Kakashi's formidable presence.

"Why'd you put her here?" Kakashi asked.

At first, Yamato didn't understand the question. "Sorry?"

"Why didn't you put her upstairs in _your _bed?"

Honestly, the only reason Yamato paused for so long was because the question was so unexpected. "She doesn't belong there." He couldn't think of any other reason.

The shape of Kakashi's eye changed- -sadness there, and when he spoke, it laced his voice. "Not yet, I suppose."

"Kakashi…what are you talking about?" Yamato felt like Kakashi was in the know, and whatever he was in the know _about_ pertained to Yamato himself. "You're acting strange."

"Hm." Kakashi shuffled back across the room, unaffected. "Probably."

What exactly did _that_ mean? Puzzled, Yamato waited for Kakashi to pass through the doorway before closing the door on Ino. Then, because he fretted he would be unable to hear her should she call, opened it a crack. Kakashi had watched from the living room, where he had sat on the couch and from the position of his body, Yamato knew the upcoming topic of conversation was to be a difficult one.

Kakashi had more than likely waited, patient and calculating, for Yamato's time and attention to address the abrupt decline in his health during Ino's absence. There was no doubt in Yamato's mind that Kakashi wished to dig for answers. Yamato sat in his armchair and rested his elbows on the cushioned armrest, prepared for the worst.

"Yamanaka Inoichi was asking questions about you a few days ago," Kakashi stated without preamble. "I thought you should know."

"Ino's dad was?" Yamato didn't have to feign surprise, but really, it had been a matter of time before Papa Bear did a preliminary background check on Prince Charming.

"He seemed quite fixated on understanding what kind of man you were."

Great. Yamato snorted. "Meaning if I'll sleep with the new recruit."

"I don't know if that's what he was checking for…or if your sexual activity even mattered. It seemed to me," said Kakashi, slowly, "that he was focused more on emotional and mental stability."

"Should I escape while I have the chance?"

The question was twenty-five percent joke and seventy-five percent serious. Yamato did not want a confrontation with a ticked Inoichi and God knew how many other Yamanakas that would take up Ino's banner should Inoichi wave it.

"Think it'd do you any good?" Kakashi replied. "I got the distinct impression he wished to speak with you personally."

Yamato planted his face into his hands. "Just do me a favor and kill me now."

"You make it sound like you have something to be worried about, Tenzou."

Oh, damn. It _did _sound as though he had something to worry about, and he _did_, but Kakashi couldn't know that. "We always said that ANBU Assassination Corps was crazy, but that the Interrogation Squad was batshit insane. I don't want any psychological trauma to be inflicted on me because I associate with his daughter."

"You already have had psychological trauma inflicted on you," Kakashi pointed out. "Nothing Inoichi can do will seem as bad."

Yes, that was true. Listening to the screams of fifty-nine other children as they died horribly agonizing deaths was psychological trauma enough for a hundred lifetimes. Yamato shuddered with a chill that crawled over his skin, as though Orochimaru's ghost had slipped into the room with them and touched cold fingertips to Yamato's nape.

"It would be a good idea to take care of Ino. Maybe that'll get you on his better side," Kakashi said. Yamato noticed the _Make-Out Tactics _book in his hand. The conversation was coming to a close. "Show him that you're not a coldhearted asshole."

"Why would he think of me as that?" The look Kakashi shot him- -sheepish with the hint of a smirk under that mask- -told him all he needed to know. "Dammit, Kakashi!"

Yamato didn't ask what he'd said that had Yamanaka Inoichi confusing him with a coldhearted asshole. Leave it to Kakashi to screw with Yamato's life, purposely or not. Half-expecting at any minute for Inoichi to come barging through the front door with killing intent, Yamato did a few chores as Kakashi occupied the couch, reading. The afternoon passed.

As it turned out, Ino was a quiet, almost needless patient. She slept soundly in the bed, and when Yamato went in to see if she was hungry for dinner, she shook her head. He started to argue with her, but she asserted that sleep took precedence over eating then rolled over to fall back asleep. He debated if he should ask Sakura to make a house call, but decided unless Ino said so, he would leave Sakura out of it.

At ten o'clock, Yamato had yawned one too many times and headed for the stairs to go to bed, or at least, attempt to catch some sleep. His mind kept returning to Ino's sunken eyes and her pale, drawn face. Not hearing Kakashi follow, he turned. "Are you coming up?"

Kakashi glanced from his book. "I'm invited?"

"Isn't that the reason you're over here?"

"Can't I want to enjoy your company?" Kakashi said, sliding a bookmark into _Make-Out Tactics, _the single guy in the world who used a bookmark for his porn. "Must there always be a catch?"

Yamato was too tired to deal with whatever mood Kakashi exhibited. Shrugging, he said, "Whatever. Come up if you want."

Then he treaded the stairs quietly and stepped over the floorboards with care, since he didn't want any creaking or thudding to wake Ino. She was probably dead to the world, but on principle, Yamato wanted to ensure she had unbroken sleep- -ANBU were notoriously light sleepers. He shed his shirt, and a small noise behind him drew his attention to Kakashi, who had decided to come upstairs after all.

The cloth mask had been removed, that much Yamato could tell though the dark cloaked Kakashi's features. Silvery-white hair gleamed in the moonlight that spilled into the open bedroom windows, enabling Yamato to track Kakashi's progress toward him. His heart felt suspended as he waited for Kakashi to make the first move.

The hand that glided along his rarely touched abdomen, startling the muscles there, was calloused and bold and familiar. Kakashi's version of a warning, Yamato knew, before the coming tempest. Like Ino, Kakashi was good at biding his time, the difference being that Ino was good at it when she _had_ to be; Kakashi's patience was infinite. Kakashi stepped closer, his presence a heat on Yamato's skin as that hand forged a path up Yamato's chest, over the collarbone and to the back of Yamato's neck. Fingers grasped the hair, a rough-gentleness, brotherly yet serious. Pressure.

"Have I told you how much I missed you?" Kakashi's voice was a low growl and weakened Yamato's knees. At first. The question was as close to an admission of love as Yamato ever received and when Kakashi's demanding mouth closed greedily over Yamato's, he was left wondering why he felt dissatisfied. Kakashi pulled back long enough to rasp, "I finally have you after the long wait."

More kissing. Yamato kissed back, drawing a deep breath in through his nose, filling his lungs with Kakashi's smell, so different from Ino's light flower fragrance that emanated from her every corner.

Wait a second- -something…smelled oddly. Did he detect a slight dog odor? Kakashi's mouth went to Yamato's shoulder and clavicle, teeth nipping the whole time. But all Yamato could think of was that never in his life had he noticed a dog-smell on Kakashi. The stupid thought stuck, and because of that small seed of imperfection, he became aware of other…differences.

Mainly, there was a…a…wrongness that dulled the potency of Kakashi's kisses, of his touch, of his very heat. Yamato felt all the attention Kakashi lavished on him, yes, but the attention was different and, again, wrong. How? How was it wrong? It wasn't his body's response to Kakashi- -in fact, his physical response had clipped right along at Kakashi's pace, and he'd sprung wood- -but an absence of some sort lessened the pizzazz of the foreplay.

"Tenzou?" Kakashi's mouth was against his ear and broke him from his thoughts. "You there?"

Whatever was wrong, Kakashi couldn't know about it. "Yes. I'm sorry. I'm just…tired."

"We can stop if you want." The fall of Kakashi's voice told Yamato of the disappointment underscoring those words. "I don't want to press you into something you're not up to."

The lie was there and so easy to say. "No, don't stop. I've missed you too." _I've been sleeping with Ino…_Yamato blocked the thought, concentrating instead on relaxing and participating more actively in the lovemaking.

But the question of what wrongness existed lasted all through Kakashi's prolonged sexual practice, and at the end of it, Yamato felt hollow and more exhausted than before. He stared out the window at the night-dark trees; Kakashi's slow breathing indicated he'd fallen asleep. If Yamato could be so lucky.

What was wrong? Guilt preyed on him, weighting his chest like a lodestone. He knew now. The guilt was the wrongness; guilt from his lying to Kakashi, exacerbated by the guilt from breaking his promise to Kakashi. Always Kakashi. Which of the guilt was the lesser of two evils? Coming clean would solve the first problem, but alternately worsened the second problem. Breaking his promise with Kakashi had no solution except silence.

The thoughts chased each other around and around, twisting and looping, until Yamato was sick of thinking. He rolled out of bed, donned a pair of drawstring pants, and padded downstairs to find something constructive to do. A little light illuminated the dark…a light from the kitchen. Moving silently, Yamato snuck towards that light, where he discovered that it was from the open refrigerator door.

A pair of bare feet, supporting two pale legs topped with a very nice ass, panties hugging curves in all the right places, and the long-sleeved shirt covered everything waist up. Oodles of blonde hair cascaded everywhere- -across her back, hanging over her shoulders. Hunger had apparently interrupted her hibernation. She'd even put on the kettle to boil some water.

"Enjoying the view?" Her voice came at him muffled from inside the fridge, edged with wry humor. She wiggled her butt some. "Or should I put on a show for you? Oh! This looks promising."

She must be feeling better if she could flirt with him. Ino righted herself and turned to show him a partially opened Tupperware container. Yamato had no idea what was in it or what it had been at one time. Mentally, he added an entry to his to-do list: Clean all science projects out of the fridge.

"That may not be safe to eat," he said, eyeing it warily. "Perhaps some cereal?"

She sniffed the container. "Would if you had some milk." Her face scrunched. "This belongs in the trash."

He took it from her to pitch it, container and all. When he returned, Ino had opened a cabinet. She reached up, the hem of her shirt riding dangerously high, causing some arousal to tangle up under his belly. For a distraction, he switched on the bulb over the stove to shed light into the kitchen. Her shirt lowered when she set down the box of crackers and a couple teabags, but the hint of skin lingered on Yamato's mind.

Her attention turned to him, eyes flicking to his chest, as she opened the crackers. "Looks like Kakashi put you through the paces."

Yamato's skin was covered in red love-bites and upraised scratch marks. Bruised replicas of Kakashi's fingertips splayed up along his sides. He hadn't realized how rough Kakashi had handled him.

"Yeah…I guess so," he replied. He brushed a finger over a purpling bite-mark. "I didn't notice."

Ino closed in, and putting her hands on his shoulders, softly kissed each bruise and mark. A man mesmerized, Yamato allowed her to administer her gentle medication. Each brush of her mouth to his chest or collarbone or shoulder intensified, one after another, until the fire burst through his defenses and he could bear her lips no more. His hand tilted her chin up. He collided his mouth with hers; the heat continued to swell, incredible and consuming.

The cool, darkened kitchen fell away and Yamato was with Ino, and Ino alone, her hands caressing his abused skin, his fingers spreading through the silken tresses. Wherever she was, whatever wavelength she tuned in to, he was there with her, flying high without any sense of caution.

She'd wrapped her arms around his neck and he heard her hum of approval when her hips bumped his and she found his full arousal. His hand ran a path to the curve of her ass, jerking her roughly into him, his erection pressed tight between them, and as his mind ironed out the best spot for fucking her, the kettle whistle screamed and caused both of them to jolt.

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**A/N:** Aw, what a terrible place to end the chapter. Expect _Three's a Crowd _on Jan. 14th, readers! See you then. =)


	18. Three's a Crowd

**A/N: **I love me some Ino, Kakashi, and Yamato drama. I hope you love it too. Enjoy!

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**Chapter Eighteen: Three's a Crowd**

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The shrill whistle tore the volatile moment apart.

He came back down to Land of Fire, Hidden Leaf, house and kitchen, heart racing in surprise and anxiety, as Ino set the kettle on another burner. Had Kakashi woken? Yamato strained his eyes to see the stairs, but they were cast in total darkness. No telling if Kakashi was there or had been there. A malaise of worry thickened inside his mind. Even so, his arousal simmered under his skin to boil into action should it be required.

They kept a distance between them, each recovering from the hellfire attraction. Ino flipped her hair out of her face and turned to reach into the cabinets for two mugs.

"Were you unable to sleep?" she asked and set the mugs on the counter. "It's pretty late for you to be up and about."

Casual conversation after spinning out of control. How'd she do it? Finding his balance after each disruptive encounter was a skill he'd yet to master, but there she was, pouring the mugs full of the boiling water and dunking the teabags in them. He'd put a hand flat on the counter, and after she set aside the kettle, she rubbed his knuckles and fingers with her hand as though intimate contact was their sole communication.

He shifted, working through the mess of accelerated heart rate, adrenaline, and arousal. Stunned at how easily he'd lost control over his emotions and action, Yamato pulled his hand from under hers to take his mug. Distance. Keep your distance. Find some self-control.

"Yes. I was worried about you, actually," he answered. He gestured with the mug, preparing to his escape. "Thank you for sharing your tea."

Her eyes were shrewd in the half-light shed from the stove hood. "What's wrong, really?"

"Nothing's wrong."

A huff. Then, "Stop lying to me and spit it out." When she set her mug on the counter, it clinked, and some tea slopped over the rim to the counter. "I'm tired of letting you get away with it. Tell me what's wrong. _Trust _me."

Her eyes were even more penetrating than Kakashi's. Yamato swallowed and opened his mouth, unsure of what he would say under her irritated gaze. "There is something different between Kakashi and me," he admitted. "I don't know what it is. I feel like…he's withholding from me. And you were right. I feel guilty for sleeping with you."

"Hm. Why don't we keep our distance for a couple days? Maybe the time apart will help you figure out what you're feeling with Kakashi. I won't be around to scramble up the feelings you have." She contemplated for a moment and sipped her tea. "And you know, it's not necessarily you. It could be that _Kakashi_ is feeling differently and you're picking up on it."

Yamato _had_ thought Kakashi was acting strangely since this afternoon. "That could be true. I want to tell him about us, but I'm not sure if it's the right thing to do."

"What's stopping you?"

He hesitated, and he hated himself for doing it. She caught the pause and rolled her eyes, and in a show of aggravation, she ripped a paper towel from the nearby roll to wipe off the spilt tea from the counter. Into the trash bin went the paper towel. When she walked out of the kitchen, mug in hand, pushing by, he saw an opportunity slipping through his fingers, one that he needed to take if he wanted her on his side.

The hulking weight of his past and guilt pressed forward. Squeezed his lungs, his heart. Trust her with it, a thought begged him. Lay the burden at her feet. She'd been inside his head, she'd saved his life, given him her trust, what more could she do? No. It wasn't _her._ It had to be him. He had to give to her a little chip of that past, a tiny bit of that guilt.

"Ino, wait," he said. She stopped, halfway through the living room, but didn't turn. For a long moment, he stared at the pale hair flooding over her back and could not shore up the courage to reveal to her the secret she'd brushed upon in their first encounter. "Come here."

Slowly she faced him. Looked like she wouldn't step closer, but she did and hopped up on a bar stool to lean on the counter. Grating rocks had lodged in his throat, ones that did not clear even with a gulp of hot tea.

"You act like you're going to your execution," she said, drily. The bar stool brought her up higher and almost level with his height. "This is something that's tough for you, hunh?"

Her dig told him she was still ticked with his hesitation. He rubbed his nose and put his left hand out on the counter, the one she'd examined months ago. Reluctantly, he flipped his hand palm-up and allowed the dim light to display the white line of scar spanning from side to side.

"You asked me once if the kunai hurt when it cut, and the answer is, yes, it did," he told her, and fought to get his stomach to stop flopping around. One of her slender fingers traced the scar line. "The mission had gone all wrong. We were both badly injured and the weather had taken a turn for the worst."

"You and Kakashi, you mean," she said.

He nodded and sighed, remembering the freezing rain like nails against his skin, the pain of his broken ribs, blood oozing out of deep wounds. "We didn't know if we were going to make it home. So, we made a blood promise to stay beside each other and to never leave the other behind, dead or alive. And for me, the promise translated to our…personal lives, too."

He paused to glance at Ino. No. Oh, please, no. She was crying for him. Tears chased each other over her cheeks, dripping off her chin and jaw, startling him enough to reach out and wipe those rivulets off her cheeks. Her face was hot under his hand; he didn't think that was necessarily from emotion, but from her sickness. She needed to get her rest, but instead, she was out here dealing with his issues.

"I see," she said. A few sniffles and a swallow. "You're thinking that if you let Kakashi know about us, he'll think you're leaving him behind. You want to keep him close to you."

Never had someone so accurately articulated his feelings. "Yes, that's right."

"Yamato, you're too good," she said, leaning up to kiss him. The kiss was unexpected enough that he accepted it without question. "Too good."

Their mouths connected again, and he felt an unspoken agreement pass between them at the kiss, her empathy pouring out of her into him and he'd _missed _someone understanding him, accepting his reticence and protective shyness. He missed putting his trust into someone who cared. The tiny ember at the bottom of his heart, the one he'd felt earlier, increased in strength and the emotion that glowed inside him felt too good to suppress and ignore.

His tongue rolled along hers, his heart pumping, body urging him to take her to the bedroom and sink into her, not just physically, but emotionally and mentally, a total submersion of himself. A part of him balked, appalled, at the direction his thinking had taken, but the vast majority could care less and pushed onwards. He moved his mouth across her face to her ear, kissing the path and tasting the salt of her tears on her cheeks, hands firm on her hips.

"Yamato," Ino whispered, "Yamato! Kakashi's moving…"

For half a second he didn't understand, but realization dawned that Kakashi was probably coming down the stairs that instant. For another half a second he didn't care if Kakashi saw them, but rationality and nerves took control and detracted him from Ino's hips and mouth. He felt the distance from her, like leaving home, as he rounded the counter to put it between them. Ino shoved her hand into the box of crackers.

"If I'd have known we'd be having a pow-wow, I would've gotten up earlier," Kakashi said, from the living room. He stepped into the light, shirtless, slacks zipped but unsnapped, riding low on his hips. He looked at Ino, his Sharingan-eye closed. "You feeling better?"

She nodded, munching on the crackers. Yamato said, "I heard her moving around down here and thought I'd investigate. Tea?"

"Hm." His attention was still on Ino and his eye narrowed. "Have you been crying?"

Ino passed a meaningful look to Yamato, but smiled and swallowed. "Yeah. I had a…nightmare about Master Asuma that upset me."

"Oh?" Kakashi straightened. "Looks like it was a bad one."

"Mine have always been extremely realistic and…painful," she said.

She didn't sound like she was making this up, Yamato thought, handing Kakashi a mug. Kakashi took it from him, purposely brushing hands. Yamato felt nothing but skin-to-skin contact, no electrical snap, no sudden, heated jolt. Kakashi's eye was on him, curious. A tilt of the head gave Yamato a bad feeling.

Kakashi's mouth quirked. "That sounds familiar. Yamato has ample experience in dealing with nightmares. He should be well able to soothe you. Isn't that right?"

Yamato didn't understand why Kakashi would want to steer the conversation toward the topic of his own nightmares. Kakashi _knew _Yamato did not like talking about them; now the topic was on the table, Ino would want to know. Anxiety bloomed, tensing the muscles in his shoulders, and Yamato fought an impulse to shrink into the dark. Kakashi's pointed comment hung between them, and a quick movement caught Yamato's eye. Ino'd put her hand on Kakashi's forearm, and her gaze was hard on him when he turned his attention to her.

"Don't prod," she told him, in no uncertain tone. "That's not playing fairly."

Kakashi shrugged and brought up the mug to his mouth with the arm that Ino didn't have. "We're shinobi. We never play fairly."

"I think there's an exception regarding our comrades," Ino said. Her brows had furrowed and Yamato saw she was defending him, and he knew that she would argue her point to get Kakashi to back down. "When it comes to emotions, especially."

Yamato knew from experience that Kakashi had a natural talent for honing a verbal remark to hit an opponent's weak point and seemed to enjoy getting a reaction in that manner. Ino would not fare well in the argument, so it would be better to stop it than let it get out of sorts.

"Ino," Yamato said to warn her. "Don't."

She shot him a glare so filled with disagreement that it knocked his breath from his lungs, and any reprimand he had died on his tongue. Kakashi drank some of the tea and set down the mug. Then he calmly turned back to Ino, and the silence with which he gazed at her definitely signaled calculation.

Shit. Yamato's stomach dropped when he understood Kakashi fully intended on engaging Ino in a verbal battle, the purpose of which was to test her will and her capacity to defend herself. Nothing to do but to wait out the argument.

"Did you play fairly with Akimichi Chouji?" Kakashi asked.

The flurry of action was instantaneous. Ino's hand jerked from Kakashi's forearm, the bar stool toppled backwards with a crash, and the loud _smack_ resounded through the dark. Kakashi was half-turned away, and in the dimness, Yamato saw a red handprint bloom across his cheek. Silence coated them thickly. Ino was standing, legs apart, shoulders hunched, and there was no doubt she was pissed. He should get involved. He should get involved and separate them before one or both of them became emotionally wounded. But he was sure that sooner or later, Kakashi and Ino would engage each other in this manner regardless of Yamato's involvement.

"I don't think you have _any _reason to speak, Hatake Kakashi, the great Scarecrow of Konoha," she said, spitting the name and title like venom. "That's just what you are, _aren't you_? So busy running around the whole world over to establish any real roots, a man stuffed with straw and no emotion, with no understanding of what a _real _relationship takes!"

Yamato noticed from years of working with Kakashi that she'd hit her mark. Kakashi imperceptibly tensed, but his reply was low and calm. "And so speaks the expert, a little girl with the silver spoon in her mouth and people at her beck and call. Tell me, what were Asuma's last words to you? Praise of your everlasting beauty?"

Even Yamato felt that hit below the belt, and though he knew he should stop the argument, he didn't think he'd ever see someone putting Hatake Kakashi into place before. He half-expected Ino to burst out crying- -her eyes were glassy- -but she stepped forward so there was an inch or less between her and Kakashi, and if she'd had the height, Yamato was sure she'd have put her forehead on Kakashi's to press in on his space.

Her voice was low as well. She said, "You tell _me_ something. Do I look like her? Is that why you're trying your damned hardest to grind me into the dust? Or to replace her with Yamato because he has the same heart as she?"

How did Ino know about Rin? Ino's reference _was _to Rin; Kakashi had secrets that he'd revealed to Yamato, and Yamato alone, and here Ino seemed to sniff them out like a blonde-haired bloodhound. Yamato had the distinct impression that Ino had eyes on Kakashi's mind and had hauled some dark memories from that deep well. But how? Would Ino have used jutsu to obtain that information, or had she gotten it by some other means? As a testament to her skill, Kakashi's color drained and the red of the slap became livid. He put a hand on her neck, not choking, but gripping and enough to get Yamato nervous.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Kakashi said. A warning.

"How hard do you want to push me," she said, her color high, "now that you know I can push back just as hard?"

She stood, panting, as she waited for Kakashi's reply or gathered breath enough to send forth another volley or maybe both. But Kakashi let her neck go, sliding his hand to her shoulder, and bent forward to brush his mouth against hers, the action confusing Yamato to the point of complete mental derailment.

Kakashi relaxed; he touched the side of Ino's face. A moment or two passed. Quietly, Kakashi said, "Do you forgive me?"

"Yes. Do you forgive me?"

"I do. And I think you pass."

The lover in Yamato recognized the affection in Kakashi's voice- -not pride, or respect, or awe, but utter and benevolent affection, and it caused Yamato to question his assumption of the verbal fight. Had Kakashi been testing Ino's will and self-defense, or had he been testing something else entirely?

Ino smiled. Easy as that, the tense atmosphere between them evaporated. She righted the bar stool as Yamato stood, perplexed with what he'd witnessed between two of his favorite people.

They'd come to an understanding, as far as he'd seen, and stopped the argument before it'd gotten out of hand. But he'd never seen such quick forgiveness before from Kakashi. As cool and detached as Kakashi appeared, there was an unforgiving streak in him a mile wide if was an inch. And that spoken affection…what was going on?

"What do you mean you think she passes?" he asked of Kakashi.

"Nothing important," Kakashi replied in a tone that sounded suspiciously like 'you wouldn't understand'. "What are you planning on doing about Genma's crush on you?"

When Yamato continued to stare, torn between agitation and mystification, Ino chuckled, having sat on the righted bar stool. "We've discussed possible scenarios. Genma is either trying to get revenge on Anko _or _he's, for some reason, trying to get revenge on _you_." Her finger poked Kakashi's shoulder. "Either way, Yamato and I are pawns in Genma's master plan, so we're going to try and remain uninvolved."

Kakashi rubbed the back of his head. "Genma is extremely manipulative when he puts his mind to it. He'll probably approach Yamato when he's not with one of us."

"I thought that, too," Ino said, nodding. "Genma and I've sparred verbally before. I can tell he'd love to bring me down a notch or two, and he'd be able to do that through Yamato."

Attention turned to Yamato, both Ino and Kakashi looked at him like they were assessing him, and words formed in his own defense. "I'm not the weak party, here."

"Heh," Kakashi breathed in that annoying way of his when he was readying to prove Yamato wrong, "you're most likely to cave under Genma's relentless attention. Whatever he's got planned, he'll come after you, first."

"Based on what prior experience?" Yamato asked. The implication that he couldn't avoid Genma's manipulations stung a bit; also Kakashi and Ino were trying to direct him from their argument and the conclusions they'd come to on each other.

"He manipulated you into going to that one party recently," answered Kakashi, "and then there was that one occasion when we were all teenagers…"

"_And_ you can be sweet-talked into doing just about anything with flattery and proximity," Ino added, "not to mention tears. What occasion when you were all teenagers?"

Nothing came to mind to help him as Kakashi and Ino conversed about an embarrassing incident involving a few shots of tequila, a sombrero, and some ladies from Wind. Well, the two of them had him all figured out, didn't they? Petulantly, Yamato gulped back the rest of his tea, set the mug in the sink, and trod across the floor and up the stairs without saying goodnight. Let them have their own counsel.

On the positive side, they weren't fighting over him like Genma had with Anko, he thought, slipping between cool sheets. He hoped Ino and Kakashi didn't go after each other like they had tonight- -Yamato felt they could inflict serious damage on each other if they wanted to, which was interesting considering that Kakashi was not easily wounded. But Ino proved that Kakashi had a soft spot in his heart that could be exploited. He waited, staring at the ceiling, going over their argument line by line until he heard footsteps across the wooden floor.

"So what did you two decide?" he asked, craning his neck to see a Kakashi-shaped figure. "Since I was excluded from the conversation."

The bed wiggled as Kakashi climbed in. "Hn. You excluded yourself."

Silence. Yamato rolled and found Kakashi facing him in the dark. "Why did you fight with Ino?"

"Tenzou." Kakashi's voice was gentle, caressing, and they were close enough together that Yamato felt Kakashi's breath. "She's in love with you."

His heart pounded hard in his chest, trying to get out, trying to escape. He swallowed. "You're imagining things. What she feels is adoration and loyalty. Nothing more."

"She's offering herself to you. Why won't you accept?"

Did Kakashi already know about them? _I slept with Ino…_"Why did you fight with her?"

Kakashi's hand smoothed back Yamato's hair, as he said, "You're my closest friend and ally, and she's in love with you. I wanted to see if she would be good enough for you."

"Kakashi. She is _not_ in love with me." He gripped his emotions so hard he wondered if his knuckles had turned white. "Stop saying that she is. Can we talk about this in the morning?"

"Why won't you accept?"

The warm hand stroked a path down Yamato's shoulder and back; Yamato's damned guilt caused the touch to feel disgustingly painful in his chest. He wanted to feel Ino inside him so he wouldn't be so alone. He hated that he didn't feel Kakashi's presence like he once did. If he could get through the complication with Ino, he held hope that he'd feel back to normal with Kakashi.

"Answer the question." Kakashi's voice was barely audible. "Why won't you accept her?"

Yes, why not? Yamato's mind settled on an answer. "She's not you."

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**A/N: **We have a few more chapters of the dramatic stuff before things start moving along. Let me know thoughts, comments, and questions. Next chapter, _Meet the Parent_, will introduce Inoichi to the scene. Expect the update Jan. 21st. See you then!


	19. Meet the Parent

**A/N: **Hey, all you readers and lurkers. I hope you've rested well this week and are ready for another chapter of "Behind the Cat's Mask". Enjoy!

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**Chapter Nineteen: Meet the Parent**

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_She's in love with you._

_Why won't you accept her?_

Kakashi's words echoed around inside Yamato's head for the remainder of the morning and kept him from sleeping. How could she be? He'd not done anything to merit her love. No, she only admired him and felt loyal to him, which were feelings that were strong and swaying on their own and which Kakashi could have mistaken for love.

Besides, he knew himself enough to know that he responded positively to adoration. Naturally, he'd reacted to Ino's adoration- -her womanly and professional adoration had made a potent combination. It was adoration that he'd found inside of her through the mind-link. There was no love for him. She was young, anyway, and whatever adoration she felt would wear away as she grew used to him and older, wiser.

A voice of reason whispered that the promise binding him with Kakashi had yet to weaken and fade into memory. That very man who lay sound asleep beside him, hogging the middle of the bed, whose body heat never fell below a hundred degrees, had reinforced the promise a thousand times over throughout the years. Kakashi held the ties that kept Yamato together.

Yamato should tell him. _I slept with Ino. It meant nothing and it's you I want._ But that wasn't really true, was it? Guilt shadowed behind his heart and was prepared to lash out and tear at him with cold fingers, to hurt him beyond all reason. Did Yamato shake Kakashi awake to reveal the secret complication formed with Ino?

No, he did not. He stayed silent and guilty and tense. Kakashi had to be first in Yamato's heart. No one else could replace him there, but Ino…Ino had charged the barrier Yamato used to guard the path to his heart, had gotten a foot on that path, was pushing eagerly for more ground, and Yamato wasn't quite sure how it had happened and now, how to prevent her from going any deeper.

And so on this morning, Yamato stared at the grain in the door that led to Ino, her unfathomable depths, her shifting moods. He pressed his fingertips to the smooth wood, convinced that he should find space, and yet unable to because she was weakened and needed him.

"Yamato? Yamato, are you there?" Ino called to him from the other side of the door. He'd forgotten she could sense chakra signatures. "I'm awake!"

Steeling himself, Yamato walked into the bedroom. "Good morning. Are you still feeling better?"

He'd thought that he'd feel differently about Ino after Kakashi's wrongful assumption of her feelings. Thankfully, his emotions rode in neutral; no quick-fire of arousal, no cold sinking guilt. That was good. Her eyes on him contained no emotional blaze, only the bleariness of morning and illness. See, Kakashi, nothing there. You were wrong.

She shook her head. "I thought I was doing better earlier, but now…I feel worse than ever! I just can't seem to shake whatever this is," Ino said to him. Her hair blanketed the pillows in gold, and she looked pale in the morning sunlight. "It's aggravating."

Yamato sat at the foot of the bed, resisting the temptation to sit beside her and stroke her hair. Comfort her through touch. "You've been resting for a couple days. You need more time."

"But _still_!" She sighed and closed her eyes. "This is ridiculous."

"You're impatient. Rest a few days more and get your strength up." Without thinking, he passed his hand down the swaddled form of her leg under the linens. "If you want me to, I can bring in Sakura."

"Thank you, but I can't have her examine me. If I'm to be examined, it has to be Lady Hokage who does it. There are…extenuating circumstances," she explained when he tilted his head. "It's nothing serious, a preference, I suppose."

He accepted her explanation, as odd as it was. "Well, then, is there anything I can get for you?"

She changed her face…a kind of pouting with widened eyes. He'd seen a face like that on Naruto when he wanted Sakura to heal him when he'd suffered a minor injury. Sakura would always cuff Naruto for giving her his 'puppy-dog face' and then proceed to heal his ailment.

"I know this'll seem like a lot to ask, but would you mind running to my apartment for a few necessities?" Her puppy-dog face gummed his insides to goo. "Please?"

A face should not manipulate his feelings like this, but like Sakura was unable to resist Naruto, Yamato was unable to resist Ino. He could not tell her no, but she didn't have to know he couldn't.

"I don't know…" he said.

Her hands clasped together. "Please? _Please_?"

"It's such a _long way…_"

"Pretty, pretty please?"

He hedged and grouched and stalled until she showed extreme puppiness with her lip half drooping to her chin and her forehead scrunched together and too cute for words.

"All right." He sighed in faux-exasperation and earned a laugh from her. "There's a pad of paper and a pen in the nightstand. Write up a list for me. And try to keep it…decent." 'Decent' paired with a meaningful glare.

She laughed. "I thought you'd lunge for the chance to paw through my underwear drawer."

"If he doesn't, _I _will." And enter Kakashi. Yamato looked to find him leaning in the doorway, fully dressed. A nod as Kakashi continued, "Good morning."

"You're a perv!" Ino answered and giggled. At least her humor was good. "And good morning to you, too."

"Eh, I hope I'm not interrupting," said Kakashi to Ino, "but I wanted to ask Yamato a quick question before I left. May I?"

They shared a gaze, an unspoken signal that went over Yamato's comprehension, before Ino gave an easy smile and nodded. "I need to make up a list anyway. Have a good day, Kakashi."

Yamato stood, belatedly realizing he'd left his hand on her leg the entire time, and walked over to Kakashi, who told Ino, "And you feel better. I'll be seeing you."

They left the room, Kakashi closing the door behind them, and guided Yamato out onto the back porch, disregarding Yamato's protests that she wouldn't hear them through the door. Kakashi even went so far as to lean in close and whisper behind his hand.

"Don't let her escape," he said, "or I'll have to swoop in and capture her for myself."

Yamato's jaw dropped. The hell…? "What _exactly_ did you guys discuss last night?"

"You." Kakashi nodded his head to rest it against Yamato's forehead. Yamato couldn't help his fascination with the exotic shape of Kakashi's eye- -and the deep grey bordering on black. "You've been warned."

Yamato wasn't sure if Kakashi was being serious or not. He and Ino were not committed to each other except on the battle field, so he shouldn't mind Kakashi's jibe. Kakashi could sweep Ino off her feet and Yamato would have no right to complain, but he disliked the idea of Kakashi touching, much less kissing, much _lesser_ screwing, her. In fact, 'dislike' bordered on disdain with a twist of anger.

Yamato couldn't let Kakashi on that he cared _too _much, since it would signal a more intimate relationship with Ino, the same one they were working on keeping from Kakashi. But he still wanted Kakashi's dick to stay out of Ino. Playfully, Yamato captured Kakashi's head with his hands and kissed him through the cloth mask, the fabric yielding and rougher than skin.

"If you _do_ capture her, I'll have to rescue her from your perverted clutches," he whispered back to Kakashi, "and now _you've_ been warned."

"Hm. Depends on the manner of the rescue," Kakashi replied. "Have a good day."

Kakashi shot into the trees and disappeared, a black-clad blur. To give Ino (and himself) some time, Yamato puttered around the house, checking the plants and adding a few more pertinent entries to his chore list. He wondered when she'd be done when she called him into the bedroom.

"Here," she said, holding aloft the square piece of paper. "These items are necessary for my existence."

He couldn't help the slow grin. "Necessary for your existence, hunh?"

"Don't make fun of a sick person," she replied, drolly. "Besides, I could do worse than what's on there."

"I'm off then. Will you be okay?"

Her eyes rolled. "What, you wanna hire a babysitter or something? Just go already!"

He took the paper, ready to leave, but somehow her hand hooked the back of his neck and since he didn't expect it, she easily tugged him down to her mouth. No thinking occurred as her hot tongue caressed the seam of his lips, seeking entrance, and when given, tested his interest. He was interested. _Very_ interested. But then Ino sighed, and a swell of emotion rose up in his chest when the kiss became softer, intimate. She released his mouth to settle back on the pillows, her eyes dazed and satisfied. Temptation was adamant about him staying with her and sneaking a hand under the hem of her shirt to her lovely breasts.

A smirk tugged the corner of her mouth as if knowing what had crossed his mind. "Off you go."

"You are extremely cruel."

She laughed. "The cruelest of them all."

Defeated, he sighed, turned, and left the house to visit Ino's apartment without any interruptions or troubles along the way. Inside her place was dark and shadowed, the air becoming stale with her absence. The list started with 'Black shoulder bag in hall closet', so he rifled through the hall closet to find her shoulder bag. Most of her listed items were in the bedroom- -nail polish remover & nail polish; toothbrush & toothpaste; hairbrush!; undies (a winking smiley face, here, as if that was apology enough); novel on nightstand- -and he had pulled out a bra, straps and band dangling, from the top bureau drawer when a polite cough froze him.

Oh, no. This can't be happening. Yamato closed his eyes, his stomach in the vicinity of his feet and a bead of sweat trickling down his back, before looking askance and seeing a man, who looked shockingly like Ino, standing in the door of the bedroom. Son of a bitch, he thought, it's Papa Bear. The bra in Yamato's hand was pale yellow with loads of lace and seemed to mock him with that color, design, and gentle swaying, a flag that practically shouted, 'Hi. I'm fucking your daughter.'

"Excuse me," Yamanaka Inoichi said, "but who are you and why are you in my daughter's underwear drawer?"

Yamato attempted to dislodge a giant stone from his throat. "Sir, I'm Commander Yamato, ANBU, and whatever reason I can give that won't kill me, it's _that_."

"Ah. So _you're _the commander I've heard so much about." Inoichi looked like he was fighting a smile. "Commander, where is my daughter?"

"She's…not here, sir."

"No shit. Care to elaborate?"

Yamato bit the inside of his cheek; he'd yet to put down Ino's stupid yellow bra, but was afraid any quick movements might cause a deadly strike. "No, sir, I do not care to."

"Maybe you should if you care to live," Inoichi's eyes narrowed, signaling danger, "and that's a promise, Commander."

"I believe you, sir. Ino's at my house."

"_Your house_?" Inoichi's presence roiled into the room, hot and buzzing with lethal chakra. There was no longer any amusement whatsoever. "Why, pray tell, is she there, and not _here,_ in her own apartment?"

"She's sick, sir, and my house was closer."

"And you're here because…?"

"She sent me here with a list of items necessary for her existence." In the pause that followed, Yamato slowly refolded the bra and stuck it into the shoulder bag. He could not feel at ease with the garment in his hand. Then he showed the slip of paper to Inoichi. "The list."

Inoichi spared the list a cursory glance before plucking it out of Yamato's fingers and stuffing it into a coat pocket. "Drop the bag, Commander, and take me to my daughter."

"But…"

"She'll not be staying with you anymore," Inoichi said, eyes hard, "so thank you for your thoughtfulness."

Yamato stiffened. Dammit, he did not want to pick a fight with Yamanaka Inoichi, but he couldn't comply with the request. He swallowed again and subtly shifted his weight should he need to exit through the window on his right because what he was going to say next might cause an emergency-escape situation. Inoichi's glare had not diminished in the second that Yamato worked up an answer.

"I refuse," Yamato said, quietly and with more calm than he felt at the moment. "Ino is your daughter, yes, but she's an adult. I'll finish my task and take you to her, but I won't let you decide for her."

That was definitely the wrong thing to say. The charged, buzzing chakra increased tenfold upon Inoichi's comprehension of Yamato's refusal. The oppressive presence in the room suffocated Yamato, and Yamato's impulse was to step back against the wall or escape through the window, if only for some space. He did not because he'd made a decision, had known the potential consequences of the decision, and rejected changing his mind because Papa Bear would be displeased. He'd stand his ground and suffer wrath, if that was his fate. After a moment or two of silent, yet physical, fuming, Inoichi scowled and gestured with his hand in the ANBU code to carry on then he strode down the hallway into the living room.

Legs watery with relief, lungs capable of drawing air, Yamato finished stuffing a few bras and panties into the bag and hoped to God he didn't grab anything bombshell sex-kitten, but knowing anything Ino wore would turn out to be anyway. He zipped closed the shoulder bag and went to the living room to face the enraged Papa Bear waiting there, though when he arrived, Inoichi seemed to have calmed some and had retracted his claws. Without speaking, they left the apartment and went together to Yamato's house, where Ino greeted them at the front door, thankfully clothed.

"Daddy!" she said and as she dove into her father's arms, Yamato saw the obvious love on her face. "I've missed you!"

Inoichi touched Ino's forehead with the palm of his hand. "The Commander said you were sick? What's wrong?"

"The flu or a cold, I think," she answered. "What're you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, darling."

"Oh!" She laughed. "Yamato and I are mission partners, so he's on the same schedule as I am and is better able to care for me," she explained. "I didn't think I was up for moving around, so he let me stay here."

"Ino…" Inoichi said, trailing off.

Ino huffed and her expression changed to irritation, defiance. They stood apart, no longer embracing, and based on body language alone, Yamato saw them discussing with each other, and he concluded that they used a mind technique to do it.

And without explanation, the atmosphere went haywire, chakra snapping out of both of them, their eyes narrowed in anger and chins set. Yamato remained silent on the sidelines, wanting to hear what they were thinking to one another, but knowing it was none of his business. As the silence lingered, their faces became redder, angrier, and they breathed hard until both of them panted, the sheen of sweat on their faces.

Then Ino startled, gasping, and to Yamato's horror, her eyes overflowed with tears. "You can't change the path I've chosen," she said, out loud, wiping furiously at the tears, "and it's not fair that you should ask me to."

Inoichi's shoulders hunched and he gesticulated wildly. "You are _my _daughter and it's my duty as a parent to watch out for you! Why are you so set on following through on this?"

Ino stepped to the side, to stand in front of Yamato. Separating him from Inoichi? Protecting him? Yamato kept his gaze steady on Inoichi because if a strike were to occur, he wanted to be ready for it. Chakra sizzled and cracked from father and daughter, ozone tainting the air and the intensity giving it weight, and nerves danced under Yamato's skin.

A long pause occurred before Ino's hands went up to hold her head. She must've responded over the mind-link. Inoichi froze, went pale, his eyes widening, and Ino folded in and thudded in a limp heap on the floor. All the electricity humming the air stopped. Shocked, Yamato knelt and brushed her hair out of her face, but her eyes remained screwed shut. She breathed, skin hot and damp, and Yamato's concern turned into high-voltage anxiety when he understood she'd been downplaying her illness.

Ino was truly a sick girl.

Yamato didn't wait for Inoichi as he scooped Ino into his arms and sprinted out of the house to rush her to Lady Hokage. Ino had been in no condition to sustain a fight with her father, especially one that had been conducted over a mind-link and had been emotionally draining, or at least, that was the guess Yamato had. He'd never had parents- -the closest to a father he'd ever gotten was the Third- -and Yamato was the type to avoid arguments if he could help it, so he couldn't relate to the dynamic Inoichi and Ino shared; however, he knew the relationship between parents and children were near indestructible, and he saw why Inoichi would behave in such a manner.

When he hopped through an open window and landed in front of Lady Hokage's desk, causing papers to swirl off the desktop, she took one look at Ino draped in his arms, and motioned him to a side door in her office, where a small medical bay and work area was located. Her manner was cool and professional.

She gestured to a bed, moving to a sink to wash her hands. "Tell me what happened."

He answered as he arranged Ino on the bed, taking care to smooth her hair. "Ever since the first set of assignments, she's been feeling under the weather. High temperature, nausea, and tiredness." He stepped back as Lady Hokage came to stand over Ino. "She thought she was coming down with the flu and was resting when she got in a fight with her father and collapsed. The argument between them was…intense."

"So the symptoms have been showing a couple months." Her hands were quick, efficient as they roamed over Ino's body. "Was she using chakra at the time of her collapse?"

"Yes, she was."

Suddenly her hands stilled. A long moment passed. He stood at the ready behind her should she need him to find Shizune or Sakura. The moment was enough for him to squirm mentally some, but he forced himself to remain calm.

Then, "Thank you, Yamato. That will be all." Her voice, which usually held a hardened edge of command to it, had softened and it confused him.

"What is it, milady?" A few shuffling, hesitant, steps forward. "She's…is she okay?"

"Ino's fine, Yamato. She needs her rest."

Her second cue for him to leave, but he wasn't ready yet. "Do you need me to take her home?"

"Unnecessary. I'll keep her here for a few days under observation and have someone take her home then." She turned to face him. Her face crinkled in slight agitation. "I assure you, she's perfectly fine. Nothing some quiet rest and fluids won't cure. Now why don't you go home and get some rest yourself?"

Instincts hummed. A feeling that she wasn't telling him something flitted through him. She was too quickly urging him away from Ino. Why? Why would she want to rush him off? He felt he should fully know of Ino's condition. Lady Hokage had assigned him to be Ino's trainer and partner, so why did she block him from being available to his partner?

Yamato considered how he should respond. Never would he be defiant of her wishes; she was the Hokage, and so her decisions were not to be questioned. But an anxious section of his brain told fantastic lies about Ino- -she was dying or had a terminal illness that had cut her young life short- -but logic accepted Lady Hokage's word on Ino's health.

Curtly, he nodded then pulled the shoulder strap of Ino's bag over his head. He hadn't had the chance to remove it at the house before Ino and Inoichi had argued.

"These are some of Ino's personal affects." He handed the bag over to Lady Hokage, who took it with a curious lift of her eyebrows. "She might want them if she's staying here. When should I check in on her?"

"I'll send along a message to you when I discharge her. Is that acceptable?"

Didn't need to be a genius to understand the underlying message. She wanted him out. Approaching him, she hooked her arm into the crook of his and guided him out the medical bay to the office where she released him with a gentle pat on the arm. Had he not gone willingly, he was sure she would have forced him out. Chakra had simmered underneath the surface of her skin when she'd touched him.

"Yamato, you've done all you can. Dismissed."

She went back to the bay and shut the door, leaving him in the middle of the office with the distinct feeling of being left in the dark…a feeling that did not settle well with him.

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**A/N:** The bedroom's definitely not where fathers want to find their daughters' suitors, for sure. LOL. Hope to see you next week for the next chapter, _A Flat Party of Epicness_, for some more Ino/Yamato-ness and Genma-nosiness. Expect the update on Jan. 28th. =)


	20. A Flat Party of Epicness

**A/N: **Welcome again, dear readers and lurkers. I hope you have had a wonderful week, and are ready for more Yamato/Ino goodness and drama. Enjoy.

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**Chapter Twenty: A Flat-Party of Epicness**

* * *

"Hey, yo!"

Elbows planted on the scarred and darkened bar counter of Leaf Blown, cloaked in blue and acrid cigarette smoke, Yamato glanced to the side and found Genma sauntering up to him with a look that had Yamato's 'oh, shit' antennae twitching. Politely he nodded, half-raising his longneck bottle and covering the fact that he eyed the availability of each exit.

"I've been looking for you all _over, _man," Genma said, and promptly cornered Yamato, who'd foolishly taken the seat closest to the wall to avoid being sandwiched between sweaty patrons. Lately, he'd been feeling people-shy.

Genma clapped him on the shoulder. "How've you been?"

A loaded question if ever there was one. Yamato was four days into Ino's recovery, four days of not seeing her- -blocked at every attempt, he might add- -of not hearing how she was, of not knowing anything even after pumping Shizune and Sakura for information- -he'd gotten nothing from them as artful as they were in avoiding his questions with some 'Her condition is classified' bullshit. Every day he'd waited for a message from Lady Hokage and every day was disappointed, with suspicion hovering at the back of his mind.

The suspicion always asked the same question: Why was Lady Hokage stopping him from visiting, or knowing of, Ino and her condition? His paranoia and anxiety weren't as pronounced as they had been when she'd been on a mission by herself, but Kakashi had been absent and so Yamato was forced to remain alone in his house, attempting to ignore the rising emotional tumult that burned like acid in his chest.

"Fine. You?" A stock answer, but whatever. Aside from his frustration with his forced ignorance, Yamato was pissed that in an infinite twist of fate, Genma had decided to close in on him, just as Kakashi and Ino predicted, when neither of them were there.

"Excited as fuck-all," Genma replied. The senbon in his mouth bobbed in agreement. "I've got a flat party planned tonight that'll blow your fucking mind."

Yamato contemplated his beer bottle. "Is that so?"A flat party was the _last _thing in the world he wanted deal with, what with there being people, _drunk_ no less, in a crowded space. No, thank you.

"Hells yeah. Been organizing and getting people around since fucking _Monday_, man. It'll be epic."

Yamato grunted noncommittally, feeling he knew where this conversation was headed.

"So you think you'll be able to make it?" Genma said, leaning in close, too easy to predict. A ring of gold circled Genma's irises, and it gave him the look of a predatory hawk. "I heard from Anko that Ino's planning on being there."

_Ino?_ Consternation multiplied as Yamato sensed a trap. Damn-damn-damn-damn…"Anko said? When was this?"

Genma rolled the senbon across teeth and lips as if knowing he had Yamato hook, line, and sinker. _Dammit_!

"Anko had been assigned the duty of escorting Ino home from the Hokage's Tower this morning. I thought you knew, man," Genma said. "Anko said the Fifth and Ino were very hush-hush about why Ino was receiving treatment in the first place. You wouldn't happen to know anything about it, would you?"

"Nothing whatsoever." Yamato's discomfort increased when Genma planted an arm on the wall beside him, and his body shifted forward to follow how close his head was to Yamato's. "I only know Ino was feeling ill for a few weeks."

"She must be at full health 'cause Anko said Ino looked stir-crazy and rearing to go." He laughed, a couple quick huffs of breath. "Said Ino leapt at the chance to get out. Ino even wanted to know why the party couldn't be earlier!"

"Hm. My answer is a tentative yes," Yamato replied while thinking he'd be getting over to Ino's immediately to allow for plenty of time to investigate her mysterious illness. At least, that's what he told himself. Yamato ducked under Genma's arm. "I've got some paperwork to finish. I came in here for a break."

Genma's senbon bobbed with the smirk. "Yeah, I'm sure. Party starts at six tonight. See you later, man."

When Yamato entered Ino's apartment- -after cautiously checking the premise for Papa Bear, who'd mysteriously disappeared after Ino's collapse and hadn't shown up since- -he discovered indications that she'd come home in clues like that of a damp towel and what smelled like a fresh spritz of perfume. He investigated the kitchen and a neon note screamed at him from its precarious position on the refrigerator door. It started off with a quick sketch of a tree, much like the note she'd planted on her bed.

_Gone shopping. See you at party tonite? XOXO, _(and then she'd drawn that elegant flower instead of writing her name).

He was less irritated with the fact she'd been presumptuous enough to guess he'd go to the party than with how she'd known he'd entered her apartment to look for her. Guess he was going to Genma's flat-party, if to see Ino and confront her about the air of confidentiality surrounding her condition and to divert Genma's predatory attention elsewhere. He left her apartment and returned home, where a message scroll had been left on his doormat that told him Ino had been discharged and escorted home. He must've missed it by a few minutes. Paperwork _had_ been waiting for him; at least that much had been the truth. The paperwork was massive enough that it distracted him enough to get to five-thirty and then he couldn't hang around his house any longer.

When he arrived, Genma's flat was packed with people, booze, and loud music the variety of which Yamato knew would pound until a headache etched itself in his brain; _all _of which was Yamato's least favorite element. Give him rain and lightning, give him half an army to obliterate, give him goddamned Orochimaru, but don't give him a wave of writhing, loud, sweating people who shouted incomprehensibly. And where were the clothing? The female ANBU wore multitudinous colored shirts and skirts that hardly constituted as such, cleavage full-out on display, slim and muscular legs shown off atop stiletto heels.

There was one reason, and one reason only, for this party: sex. Really, he should leave. Already he'd caught the slow once-over from several girls directed at _him_, and he thought it had more to do with his association with the elusive Hatake Kakashi. On more than one occasion, he'd been propositioned with such enticing offers as a threesome or, laughably, an orgy if he would just introduce Kakashi into the action. Somehow, Genma saw him over everyone and with a quick smile, raised a beer bottle. They met halfway, with Genma leaning in to talk into Yamato's ear.

"Glad you could make it!" Yamato thought he heard Genma say. "Didn't know if you'd come or not!"

Yamato accepted the beer bottle Genma wrapped his hand around and wove through the bouncing, shaking bodies to a space at an open window, where a breeze cooled him, and where he felt contented to watch everyone else mingle and dance. Several times he scanned the crowd, searching for either a shock of white hair or the burst of pale blonde. Neither seemed to be present. Genma dragged him into some conversation about Anko's latest drama, and lifted a brow when Genma casually introduced Ino into the conversation.

"…yeah," Genma continued, eyes also scanning the crowd, "Anko told me Ino looked ready to die, so you weren't dicking around about how serious her illness was."

Yamato sipped from his bottle, unsure of the conversation's direction. His eye caught the front door opening, but the mass of bodies obscured whoever entered. But he noticed how the men had broken eye contact with their companions, and the acute spike in testosterone hushed the other loud conversations as a few necks craned.

"Who is that…?"

"I can't see!" A few voices said over the hush.

A part as men and women drew aside for…oh, God…Ino. Her hair down and draping around her like a cloak, her dress loose but cinched in all the right places to show cleavage and pale thigh, leg muscles flexing to balance on some stylish pumps.

His whole body down to the _cell_ pointed in her direction, like a magnetic field had spun him to face her. She was smokin' hot and everyone in the damn room knew it. He had an overwhelming urge to slam all the other men into wooden coffins for ogling Ino the way they were. That urge was nothing in comparison to the one that fantasized about ripping that dress off and doing all sorts of lewd acts with her.

"She's something, ain't she?" Genma whispered, too close to his ear. "I would kill to get in bed with her for a night. Though," and here Yamato felt a heavy hand caress the middle of his back, sending distraught prickles along his spine, "I could settle for you."

The trap snapped shut. Yamato glanced across at Genma, startled that he'd closed in so quickly, and Yamato's brain whirred for an appropriate response to the come-on, but no matter what he came up with, Genma would draw the conclusion that Yamato's disinterest stemmed from Ino's arrival, and the _last _thing Yamato wanted was Genma to take revenge on Ino. Then an arm hooked around his neck.

"He's mine tonight," Anko said, rubbing her nose on Yamato's earlobe. "Back off."

Yamato wasn't sure if she was telling Genma to back off or _him._ Either way, Anko's nose in his ear didn't help. Genma's nostrils flared and his eyes drilled into Anko, who made a contented sound at the back of her throat, sort of like a pigeon cooing.

"You conniving snake-freak," Genma murmured darkly. "I fucking swear I'm gonna put you in your goddamned place one of these days."

Anko's grin was slow and feral. "When and where, little bunny."

Yamato saw the path this conversation currently tread and gripped Anko's wrist gently to unwrap her arm from his neck. "I'll leave you two to, ah, discuss matters. I think I see Kakashi."

A lie, that, but he escaped from between Anko and Genma and as he moved across the floor he noticed a group had gathered in a corner, rotating around someone, and when he rolled to his tip-toes to see who was center of that solar system, that someone was Ino, acting as the sun to those dozens of admirers basking in her presence, most of which were male. Sex was the sole reason of the party, but it seemed as though the attendees were honing in on a single individual.

Disgusted, Yamato went to where Genma had set up an impromptu bar counter. Behind it slaved a younger member of ANBU, whose name, if memory served, was Kaoru. He caught Kaoru's eye and gestured with his empty beer bottle; a short moment later a fresh bottle transferred hands. Genma's flat was on the top floor and he had access to the roof. Needing the peace to think, Yamato headed to a door labeled 'ROOF ACCESS' in yellow print- -avoiding the crowd that congregated around Ino- -and followed a short flight of stairs to the open roof.

A frown tugged the corners of his mouth when he pushed through the door. The roof, as with the floor beneath it, was packed with partiers. Genma had not been exaggerating the 'epicness' of his flat-party. Yamato eased into a corner unoccupied by breasts and hormones and leaned on the cement wall that cordoned off the roof. The breeze carried with it the promise of rain and Yamato idly wondered if it would rain tonight or wait until tomorrow. A polite, feminine cough for his attention had him rotating to face a trio of young ladies, not of ANBU rank, but of the bimbo civilian rank.

If they hadn't been screeching, his alarms certainly would have sounded off when the three of them batted their eyelashes, and one, wearing a red number that fit like a second skin, stepped forward hesitantly. She flashed a dazzling come-hither smile at him and Yamato decided that his best strategy was to put up a distraction and fall back to a more secure location, quite possibly his locked house.

"Hi," said this red-dressed brunette, "I'm Chloe. You're Commander Yamato, right?"

He clasped the narrow hand offered him. "Yes. Nice to meet you. Your friends?"

"Oh!" She giggled and gestured left then right. "Arianna and Lily."

They all continued to bat their eyelashes at him as he nodded in acceptance. He hoped they didn't see how he shifted his weight uncomfortably under their gaze, or smell his fear. The three ladies moved around him in a loose semi-circle that caged him against the cement wall entirely too well.

Chloe rested a hand on his arm, flipping dark hair over her shoulder in a gesture that reminded him of Ino. "We were wondering," she paused to smile at him again, "if maybe later you wouldn't mind escorting us home? We're all roommates, see, and there're these thugs that sort of patrol our street-"

"They scare us half to death," interrupted Lily, "and we thought you'd be able to chase them off."

Arianna put her hand on his chest. "And, you know, we'd be more than happy to repay you for your…_services_."

Yamato looked at a fixed point over their shoulders. Squinted. "Is that Hatake Kakashi?"

All three women jerked half-around. "_Where_?"

As quickly, Yamato vaulted over the cement wall and swiftly hopped through the first open window below the roof line. The bathroom. He fumbled around in the unfamiliar space, hitting his knee on the toilet bowl, before finding the light switch and flicking it on. He heard Lily/Chloe/Arianna-noise from the roof as they expressed exasperation with his getaway. Sighing, Yamato sagged to sit on the toilet seat and realized he'd left his drink on the roof. Damn.

What was wrong with him? Any other guy with a sixth the brains would dive at the chance to 'escort' three beautiful women to their apartment, where they would more than likely engage in some sexual repayment. But only one beautiful woman interested him, and she was probably on a shrine in the living room accepting sacrifices at her pretty feet from all her handsome and clever suitors. For Yamato, this stupid party was a complete bust. He wanted the controlled dark and quiet corners of his own home without the stress caused by a lover. Lovers, plural, reminded a voice. Kakashi _and_ Ino.

And as though the very thought summoned her, Ino flung open and slammed shut the bathroom door to lock it behind her. She turned to face him, all leg and cleavage and pale hair and perfect make-up and flower perfume. The spectrum of his acquired vocabulary evaporated under the heated gaze she focused on him, and with the conveyance of that look, his body pooled what felt like lava in his gut, understanding even when his stalled brain couldn't.

"So this is where you've been hiding out," she said. Her heels clicked on the tile floor when she walked up to him. "I've been looking for you."

Her hand grabbed the top section of his flak jacket, right at the top of the zipper, and hauled him to his feet. The sudden show of strength burned a light in his chest, set his heart to racing. Even with her heels, she was a couple inches shorter than he, but even enough in height that he got a good, long look at her very kissable mouth. There was no escaping her.

"Here's the plan, Captain," she said, looping her arms around his neck. The timbre of her voice throbbed through him; he knew what she wanted from him. And everything inside of him said _yes._ "You're going to fuck me on that sink. Then, you're going to go downstairs and wait for me on the street. After we meet up again, you're going to take me home where I will do things to you that'll make you scream my name." She leaned closer, her presence sparking and hot and _needed_, to whisper to him. "Objections?"

He had none.

Ino touched her mouth to his, not the consuming hunger he expected, but a gentle hello. And the gentleness when he didn't expect it, bubbled up a power in his chest that wasn't exactly arousal, but stole his breath anyway. Sex in a bathroom was supposed to be fast and dirty, but the pace Ino set was the complete opposite. Slowly she kissed him, coaxing his lips to part, taking her time with his mouth and tongue, as she slipped off his hatsuburi and unzipped his flak jacket. Making him comfortable. Calming him.

He closed his eyes and allowed her to do as she pleased. Pleasure stirred deep, deep down; a sense of such depth that he could see no bottom to it, no end. His body thrummed as Ino's fingers spread through his hair, and he ran his hands up her satin-smooth thighs to her hips under the hem of the dress. She was damp with sweat. When he pushed her, she backed up to the broad counter, and he felt her lean on the edge of it as he kissed her.

Fingertips traced the hem of her soft panties, around to her ass and back, peeling away fabric to uncover more skin and slick heat. Over her knees the material fell to crumple on the floor. Everywhere he touched her was liquid heat, seeping, washing though his nerves. He was tight, hard, four days' anxiety and frustration exaggerating the tautness under his skin. Inside he was a coil of pure potential energy, and he removed his hands from her body to shed his pants and underwear, cool air hitting his hot junk and wound tightly enough that she could set him off just by stroking him a few times.

She spread her knees wider, inviting him, and then groaned low in her throat when he rubbed a thumb over her moistened clit. "Ready on your go," she murmured, between the groans and hard kissing.

He reached between them to help guide his head into her entrance, hissing as the pliant muscles closed around the already over-stimulated dick. Ino adjusted, a shift of hips, and Yamato, grunting, slipped balls-deep into her. The sensation rattled him enough that he had to pause to allow the pleasure to settle some. Too quick it had jumped up from under his stomach, wolf-hungry and ready to strike. Then he rocked forward and back, that single, short stroke, elicited a gasp in the form of his name from Ino's lips.

His name in that lustful voice shot him to the core with heat, and he succumbed to a pace that could only be accurately described as fucking. God, she felt so good. It was all he could think, all he could breathe and taste…

"Uh, Yamato," Ino murmured, and repeated it with a fervor that matched his rising burst of climax. "Yamato, oh, _yes._"

She tossed her head back, baring her throat, and he dragged teeth and tongue over her skin to taste her, unable to stop the momentum between them. His heart pounded in his chest, pounded blood and rapture with each thrust inside her, surging him closer to desperate release. Ino's back hit the mirror, slamming it with his rhythm, her hips arched; she ground him inside her, and her voice went high-pitched in orgasm. That was too much. He couldn't hold back anymore.

With a gasp of breath, he plunged into lightning release, insides squeezing, aching for _more_ of that good shit. He strained to stay hovering in that between-place he went when he was inside her, but already he'd fallen to the far side of the apex, began the slow drift into himself again. Both of them panted, heat pouring from their skin in waves, and she leaned forward to embrace him. Without thinking, he hugged her back, so tight to his chest with the feeling that he wanted to push her inside him.

"I'm sorry if I gave you a scare," she whispered to him, "but I'm under orders to keep everything confidential. Please don't think I'm keeping anything from you purposely."

The nervous voices that had plagued him since her collapse shut up. Now that she was with him again, he didn't care that he'd been left in the dark, that he hadn't been allowed to see her or know of her condition and consequent treatment.

"I understand. I'm glad you're here," he told her, stroking her back. How he'd missed her. "Let's get out of here."

"Agreed," she said and smiled at him widely.

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**A/N:** I love me a strong woman. I promise all the dramatic elements of this story are going to pay off. The next couple of chapters will definitely pick up speed. Expect _The Visitor Protocol _on Feb. 4th. Until then! =)


	21. The Visitor Protocol

**A/N:** Welcome back, dear lurkers and readers, for another installment of "Behind the Cat's Mask". I hope you enjoy. =)

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**Chapter Twenty-One: The Visitor Protocol**

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Yamato shrugged into his flak jacket and glanced over at Ino, who shimmied into her panties. "Everyone is excited to see you tonight. I don't understand how you can leave without everyone wondering where you're going." He had to speak up over the noise that filtered in from the flat and open-window- -the loud conversation and louder, thick music.

"Those same people know I've been out of commission for a few days," she answered, turning toward the mirror to comb fingers through her fall of hair. "I'll say I'm exhausted and need to have an early night on doctor's orders." She smiled at him through the reflection of the mirror. "It'll be fine, I promise."

He watched without answering as she fluffed her hair and leaned in close to the mirror to check for…what? Smudges in her makeup? Blemishes? She looked put together and cool. Like she'd just stepped into the bathroom to freshen up. Not at all how he felt. The flood of recent hormones and chemicals doped him up, made him feel…apart from himself, as though floating overhead or watching everything from over his own shoulder. But even within that feeling, Yamato's anxiety over Genma and Kakashi moored him to reality.

"Hey." Her call drew his attention to her eyes. A gentle smile. "It'll be all right. Trust me."

She was right. There was no need to worry. "I'll see you downstairs, then."

"Yes. I might get stalled, so don't get impatient," she replied, and she held out his hatsuburi to him. He'd missed her picking it up. "You coming in to look for me will give Genma the opportunity to sweep you into his lair."

Yamato adjusted his hatsuburi over his brow. "Lair seems exceptionally accurate."

"Well," she said, leaning into him, chin tilting upwards, asking for a kiss, "he _is _the big, bad wolf, Pinocchio. I want you to be careful."

He gave her the kiss she wanted, another slow, drawn-out one that stretched the emotion in his chest in all different directions. The heavy thump of the music and roar of the partiers faded. Under the curtain of her hair, Yamato stroked a knuckle along her spine then spread fingers across the tattoos he knew were there but couldn't see. Even after the sex on the sink, his body yearned for Ino's hot skin and softness. Things were muddled, at a distance, and he wasn't sure how long it was before he heard the angry _whump-whump-whump_ at the bathroom door…someone pounding for entry.

Ino rubbed his lips with hers. "Guess you need to take the window exit, Captain. I'll make my rounds and be with you soon."

He nodded, unable to form a sensible answer even inside his head, and planted a hand on the window sill to hop through and slip down the side of the building into the littered, dark alleyway that flanked the side of Genma's apartment building. Waiting for Ino seemed to be a hobby of his; he'd gotten impossibly good (and lonely and guilty) at it over the past four days, and presently, the conflicting feelings that her absence seemed to generate flew together inside him to pester him with what ifs.

Taking Ino home with the intention of bedding her was so dangerous. He knew Kakashi. He knew Kakashi could possibly drop by unannounced and discover them together. Worse, Yamanaka Inoichi could hear they were at home together- -and that in itself was a disaster waiting to happen. He pressed a couple fingers to the bridge of his nose, attempting to talk himself out of his rendezvous with Ino, but for every good reason he came up with, he found a million others much more convincing to go through with it.

A presence called his attention to a figure silhouetted against the mouth of the alleyway from a dim, flickering overhead lamp. A glimpse of white hair. Kakashi. Nerves jumbled up in his stomach.

"Yo, Tenzou," Kakashi said. He approached on cat's feet. "Wondered if you'd make it tonight."

_Shit._ Rattled to the core with Kakashi's appearance, Yamato determined that he had not expected to see Kakashi when a clandestine meeting with Ino was nearing. "I get out when I have to," he replied- -as though he hadn't scrambled for that answer over the frayed nerves.

"Are you waiting for someone?" Kakashi asked as he halted within arm's reach of Yamato, who felt the appraising eye scan up and down. Kakashi's question came too close to the proximity of the truth. "To be back here by yourself, out of sight."

"Hiding out from Genma and Anko, actually," Yamato answered. That was a half-truth, at least.

The angle of Kakashi's head changed from nonchalance to dangerously interested. "What're they doing now?"

Kakashi's sudden mood-swing to the serious startled Yamato. The tone Kakashi's words took hinted at anger simmering under the surface, of action building in muscles, of the crack and shock of chakra. Yamato had lied too well, and Kakashi, his dear lover and friend, prepped an offensive attack. Yamato closed the distance between them so he could rest a steadying hand on Kakashi's forearm.

"It's nothing. They've so far behaved," he said. "I'm not feeling up to the party, I guess." He hesitated a moment, debating if he should reveal another, more intimate aspect of his presence in the alley. "Ino came, but said she wasn't feeling well, so I told her I'd walk her home."

"Your home, or hers?" Kakashi asked.

Yamato's breath caught up in his chest, and he released Kakashi's arm, fearful he'd transfer his emotion through his touch. He couldn't be sure, but Kakashi sounded like he'd posed an underlying meaning in the question. Did Kakashi know their secret? They had been so careful, but Kakashi was one to take shots in the dark; if he suspected something going on between Yamato and Ino, but wasn't sure, he would scratch at it until his curiosity was sated. But the question could be a general, polite question. Yamato had brought Ino to his house prior, so Kakashi had reason to ask, though telling Kakashi that Ino was coming home with him might send the wrong message.

Yamato didn't how to answer, so he settled on saying, "It's up to Ino where she wants to go."

"Hn," answered Kakashi, turning aside. "Here she comes, actually."

Ino entered the alleyway as only Ino could- -with a brusqueness and flip of blonde hair, as she came up to them, heels clicking with her strident pace- -not even stopping short at seeing Kakashi there. She seemed a touch out of breath.

"Hi, Kakashi. I hate to ask, but can you do a humongous favor?" she asked without preamble as she stepped beside Yamato.

"Oh?"

"Genma and Anko are on the prowl. Would you run interference while I get Yamato to safety?" When he seemed to consider, she put her hands together, a mockery of begging. Yamato was amazed that her misdirection matched with his previous lie so seamlessly. "Please?"

"I can do that," Kakashi finally answered. "You two have fun." Then without any further conversation, he turned and sauntered out of the alleyway and disappeared around the corner of the building, leaving Yamato alone with Ino. At last.

Ino snorted from beside him. "I can't believe that worked."

Yamato had similar sentiments, but Ino took his hand and tugged him down the alleyway into the street. They walked to his home together, taking their time, and conversing in quiet murmurs about everything and nothing. He liked being away from all those people; he liked having Ino to himself, liked hearing her and walking beside her. Together they entered his house and ignoring the dark, Ino led him by the hand up the stairs to his bedroom and her eagerness caused him to laugh. The curtains rustled with the breeze from the open windows as Ino shed her pumps.

"Let's take our time, shall we?" She faced him and traced her fingertips under his jaw. Her voice lowered. "I want to savor you."

No one had ever said that to him. All nervousness and worry gave in to the attention Ino garnered. Off came their clothes with gentle, slow touches and languid kisses. The protective introversion was cast aside for a shining new armor, one that he could wear only when Ino was with him. Wherever he touched her, she reacted, her body pushing into him, closer, closer, with a low hum in her throat, her own hands skimming over his skin to explore his lines and planes. She touched him like she wanted to memorize the landscape of his body, and her attentiveness quenched a thirst he didn't even realize he had.

He allowed her to push him onto the bed, on his back, and she climbed on top of him to straddle his hips. She was all supple curves and softness. The Third's voice rumbled up from the back of his mind: It is good for you to eyes gleamed in the dim light coming in from the windows, and her hair veritably glowed with its paleness. She spread her hands over his chest and his skin burned in response.

"I think tonight, I want to make love to the whole of you," she whispered, leaning forward to kiss a pattern along his jaw. Sparks showered over him, hot and crackling, throbs of heat through him. He could tell she was building up chakra, but he missed it when she molded it using her fingers. The spread of tingling in the back of his head warned him she'd implemented the mind jutsu. _And I think using the mind-link will help make that happen._

Her power became clear to him when a tide of heat and tenseness rose under his belly. She was using the link to control his sensory perception. Oh, _God._ He flung his arms out to curl fingers into the bedding and breathed, hard, when she sank onto him and it was like she increased the volume of the pleasure he felt with simple thoughts.

_Ino…what're you doing…?_

She shushed him. _Just enjoy it._

His whole body became a conduit for Ino's presence, amplifying their connection so that it resonated in his every corner. He fed off her immense emotion, and as he packed it down to his marrow, he suddenly arched his back when unfiltered Ino reached into his memories, seeking, exploring, soaring.

He should resist and push her back, but was incapable of shielding his past from her and at his base level- -ignoring all sound reason that if he allowed her in like this, everything would change and there would be no turning from it- -he wanted her to see him in full. He'd hidden from Kakashi, hid the admiration and love that caused Yamato so much anguish because he could not be certain of Kakashi's response. Or, if Kakashi would respond at all. The feeling of her presence told him that she would bare the weight of his secrets, would keep them quiet and covered, and would return his trust with her own.

Ino continued to blaze through him, each stroke a spiral of ever-increasing rapture. Her physical body gave him physical pleasure, but inside, where she filled his deepest, darkest cracks, he'd become a sex organ- -sensitive to every brush against his mind, sending reverberations of ecstasy through him, but she was skilled enough to prevent him from climaxing too soon. It was light all inside him and he felt or saw or _knew _of a connection that spanned from himself to her, and she was allowing him to see the expanse of her own experiences and memories as she reached into his own mind.

He was curious to explore her mind, but found it impossible to concentrate around Ino inside him. She didn't take hold of any particular memory, and instead, chose to glide through them like a bird through wind. The further into his memories she plunged, the more intensely he felt the hot shockwaves of her feelings for him rippling through him, endlessly, until the pleasure, internally, became unbearable. She was in love with him, he could see that so clearly because she let him, had no fear of his response whatever it would be, and he mentally held his breath for the coming wave.

And there was no holding it back. "I…Ino," he gasped, fists tight in the sheets, "_Ino_!"

His entirety was at the notch before orgasm- -his muscles tense, body straining, bowing under her to get closer- -but it wasn't until she reached his earliest memories of the lab did she stop and caress the shape of those memories with unseen hands. Somehow that internal touch, that loving, womanly touch on sacred memories, put Ino at the very epicenter of his soul.

He burst.

From behind his eyes to the tips of his fingers to the soles of his feet, the fabric that wove him together- -what made him who he was- -pulled together and sang in a single, climactic chorus. Never before had he reached such clarity, and as heat and unfamiliar emotion consumed him, he was pretty sure he screamed her name.

His brain floated off on a cloud, and when Ino crawled next to him, he rolled to his side so he could wrap a protective arm around her. Her warmth radiated to his bones as she curled up beside him. The last thing he saw was Ino's face, framed by her pale hair, a few inches away from him. Sleep quickly took him over, and it was a hard sleep, disrupted only by the sharp shock that warned of someone approaching the house.

Without even analyzing the mass and chakra data, Yamato's brain concluded that it must be Kakashi, because who else would think to visit him at three in the morning? And as a result of this immediate, muddled conclusion, Yamato did not fully wake up, even as he tripped over Ino's shoes, hauled up his pants, and then stumbled down the stairs, groping the wall for balance. His memory of the house seemed fuzzy, but he managed to slide open the backdoor just as a shadowy figure landed on the porch.

"Kakashi," Yamato murmured, his voice rough, "what're you doing here?"

"Not Kakashi," came the answer, and before alarm had a chance to register, the figure closed in. "But interesting you should mention him."

Yamato realized that it was _Genma _and not Kakashi who'd arrived when he struck, and had Yamato been more awake than asleep, then he would've been able to strafe and evade the trap. As it was, Yamato was caught off-guard when Genma planted a firm hand on his chest and pushed him backwards into the dark house, where his back met the rough wood of a wall. Genma smelled of stale booze and sweat, as though he'd been stewing in those two liquids for awhile, and he repositioned his hands, one on Yamato's neck and the other pinning Yamato's wrist against the wall.

"I'd wondered where you'd slipped off to," said Genma, slurring, "when Kakashi finally showed up. And then I realized Ino had gone missing in action. Didn't take much effort to figure out what you two're up to."

Genma was guessing and drunk-jealous, and every thought Yamato had centered around keeping Ino safe. He'd have to distract Genma. Yamato kept his voice low, placing a hand on the wrist that gripped his neck. "Genma. Nothing is going on. I took Ino home because she wasn't feeling well. You're drunk and you're imagining things."

"I may be drunk," he said as he let Yamato go and drew back marginally, "but I'm not drunk enough to forget what sex sounds like, and you and Ino were definitely fucking in my bathroom. Most interesting, considering your long-term affair with Kakashi."

Then Yamato jumped, internal sirens wailing, when a hand passed over his abdomen and stomach, dropping lower beneath his naval to caress the exposed skin. Dammit. Yamato had not fastened his fly and found Genma's enterprising hand distressingly close to an unauthorized area. Panic flashed heat through him, tensed up his muscles, while his brain scuttled for an escape. He did not like Genma touching him like that, but how could he deflect the touch without raising Genma's ire?

Genma chuckled, mouth close to Yamato's ear, the hot breath raising hackles. "Now I wonder. What price are you willing to pay for privacy? Because I'm betting that Kakashi has no fucking clue what's going on right under his nose. And what will happen, Tenzou, if Kakashi understands that you've been fucking that pretty Yamanaka bitch? My guess," and the hand dipped further down to palm his goods and Yamato squirmed in discomfort and nerves, "that Kakashi will engage elsewhere. What's your price?"

Genma's intent was crystal clear, the manipulation more skillful than Yamato ever imagined. For his silence, Yamato would have to do whatever Genma wanted, and it seemed, he wanted Yamato in bed. But as the part of him that wanted to please and take the easiest path nodded the go-ahead, an anger rose in him- -a fierceness like a growling animal- -that hardened Yamato's resolve. Genma's purpose in life was to hurt others by any means necessary; in one swoop, if Yamato allowed it, Genma could hurt him, Ino, and Kakashi. Yamato could allow himself to be hurt, but Ino and Kakashi…no. He would not allow that to happen.

Kakashi may lose interest if he found out that Yamato was entangled with Ino, but Yamato'd rather lose Kakashi's interest than his respect for giving in to Genma. The ties keeping the promise together snapped, and Yamato flew forward.

Yamato yanked Genma's hand out of his pants. "Shinarui. Get your fucking hands off."

"All I ever wanted was you," Genma hissed, and slammed his mouth to Yamato's.

The aggressiveness and force behind the contact stunned Yamato, even as he flinched away in disgust at the assault Genma's tongue made on his lips. He had to break out of Genma's hold, but do it without getting into a full-scale battle with Genma, who had become unpredictable.

"Is this a boys-only club, or can girls join too?"

At the sound of Ino's voice, Genma broke off the kiss, which gave Yamato the opening he needed to escape Genma's claustrophobic grasp. He moved to the side out of reach as Genma reeled around. Yamato's breath came in great heaves, and all his zen had been ruined, nausea and the feel of being dirty crashing his equilibrium.

Through his sickness, he saw Ino at the base of the stairs, invisible in the shadows except the mane of hair. She stepped forward, and Yamato could see she had on his shirt, which covered her to the tops of her pale thighs.

"_You_!" Genma shouted. "Where'd you come from?"

"You have to ask?" Ino replied, coming closer. "I thought you'd already figured it out."

"Get the fuck out of my sight. You make me _sick_," said Genma, but he didn't advance on her, "tearing up the sheets with Captain instead of doing your damn duty. Bet the only reason you got promoted was because you fucked out his brains."

Her glare was ice. "Yeah, you'd like to think so. I hate to tell you, but my vagina and my job have nothing to do with each other. Why don't you save your jealousy for Anko, and get the fuck out of here."

"Jealous, hunh. That what you think I am? That's a bigger joke than you are."

"You're jealous all right. You're jealous that I've bedded Captain before you got the chance to bone him. What do you say, Yamato?" Ino turned her attention to Yamato. "Think you're interested enough in a pity-fuck to make poor ole Shiranui feel better?"

Genma snorted. "Maybe he's not the one who should give me the pity-fuck."

"My vag shudders in disgust when your disease-ridden wang gets within fifty feet. I'm done dealing with you. Leave us alone."

Yamato should have expected it, but he felt so violated and unbalanced that he didn't see the warning flags. Genma struck out faster than his drunken behavior should have allowed. He went for Ino, but she was quick on her feet, and evaded a fist swung at her. Anger, which had been hovering at the back, flowed over Yamato in a fresh wave. Chakra surged through his system, pouring out of his feet into the floorboards, uncontrolled. The window panes rattled and the house creaked and moaned, and Yamato's thoughts centered on Genma going after Ino and how much Genma needed to _get out_ before Yamato committed murder in cold blood.

Genma sidestepped the floorboards popping up after him, creating a gaping hole in the middle of the floor, by leaping to the wall, but the whole house was Yamato, vibrated with his anger and annoyance, and the wall batted Genma like a fly. He hit the floor hard, recovered with a skillful roll, but tripped over his feet- -thanks in part to his impaired state- -and tumbled to the side, somehow catching Ino in the process, the two of them falling into a shadow-black corner of the house. She grunted and Yamato heard their bodies hit the floor; some shuffling.

As Yamato approached because he couldn't see them in the dark, he heard Genma say, in surprise, "Holy fucking shit! You're mffmffh-"

Another heavy thud. Yamato came upon Ino, sprawled under an unconscious Genma. She struggled to shove him off.

"Oof. He weighs a ton," she said. She managed to roll him to his back and accepted Yamato's proffered hand. He pulled her up to stand next to him. "He shouldn't give us any more problems."

No, he would not. Yamato flipped a few signs to tell his house and his land to remove Genma's offensive body from Yamato's presence. The bare floorboards bent and flexed, creaking, and the ends formed facsimiled faces of dogs. Those floorboard dogs gripped Genma's limp body in teeth and pulled him under the house, where he would be assimilated into the ground and deposited in a place not on Yamato's property.

Ino laughed. "Wow. You could really care less what happens to Genma."

"When he intruded, he lost whatever respect I had for him," he answered. Her hair was smooth under his hands and so soft. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

She responded to his touch by hugging him, slipping her arms under his and clutching his back. "I'm fine. Are you okay? I saw how he touched you."

"He didn't hurt me," he said. "I'm more upset he went after you than me."

Her laugh was unexpected. "I feel the same. I could've killed him for putting his hands on you. I guess that makes me selfish. I want to be the only one touching you."

He didn't say it, but he felt the same. He kissed her to assure himself she was really fine, and together, they went back upstairs to bed where he received a delightful surprise when he tucked his hand under the hem of the shirt and found she wasn't wearing any underwear.

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**A/N:** I apologize again to all my Genma-lovers out there. I know I've really warped his character, and I'm sorry, but it works for the plot. We have some movement forward in Yamato's emotions, finally, and moreso in the next chapter, I promise. Thank you for being patient with all the drama-bits. Your patience will definitely pay off. Expect the next chapter, _Once-in-a-lifetime_, on Feb. 11th. Until then!


	22. Once in a lifetime

**A/N:** Welcome again, dear readers and lurkers. The drama-y bits are over, and now the story will be full-throttle forward. Enjoy.

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**Chapter Twenty-two: Once-in-a-lifetime**

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He woke up, sun full in his eyes from the window, Ino's head heavy on his shoulder, the edge of a blade in his stomach. Like the morning after his first time with Kakashi, he sensed change, and indeed, his quiet, lonely existence had adapted to Kakashi's independence and sometimes fierce needs.

Again, his life felt changed, and this time, in adaptation to Ino; a dark spot of helplessness and panic spread in the back of his mind, but he concentrated on the highlights in the nest of Ino's hair. Yamato no longer knew what the future held, but he believed things would eventually balance out and return to normal. They had to. For now, all he could do was revel in comfort and contentment.

A gentle brush up his side. Ino snuggled closer and sighed. "Tut, tut, Captain," she murmured, "you shouldn't brood this early in the morning."

"I'm not," he said. Even half asleep she managed to read him. "I've never slept in so late."

"You're the one person I know who thinks seven in the morning is 'sleeping in'." She sat up and the sheet crumpled to her waist so that he was treated to frontal nudity. "Let's get around and figure out what's for breakfast."

When Ino stood and stretched, her arms reaching upwards and body arching, he noticed a strange swelling above her pelvis. Had Genma hit her last night? But there wasn't any bruising where the swelling was. Was it a result of her illness?

"What is that?" he asked, crawling over to her side of the bed to inspect her closer.

"Hm?"

He put a hand to her flesh and found it hot, like a sun burned under the surface. "This. What's this?"

Her laugh was easy. "It's nothing. My stomach's always looked like this." He was about to argue because he had prior, up-close experience with her stomach and he didn't remember a swelling, when she leaned to rest her forehead against his and said, "There's nothing wrong."

The openness of her gaze had him dropping his hand and stifling any arguments or questions he had. Implicit trust had been difficult for her to earn; she at least deserved it. But still, the oddity worried him. He watched her cross the bedroom to a tote he hadn't noticed before. She unzipped a side pocket and withdrew a few toiletry items.

"I hope you don't mind," she said, "but I knew I'd be staying the night. I brought over a few supplies yesterday while you were out."

Her presumptuousness exasperated him. "You broke into my house again."

Laughing, she walked into the bathroom. Her voice echoed out. "It's not breaking in when you leave your backdoor unlocked."

Then he heard the faucet turn on, a signal that ended the conversation. So it was like that, was it? Resigned to Ino's pushiness, he scrounged up clean clothes to wear and stayed out of Ino's way as she performed an elaborate morning ritual, which allowed Yamato a few precious moments to brush his own teeth. Afterwards, they went downstairs and his brain abruptly caught up to a few facts: one, he'd been sleeping with Ino regularly without thought to birth control; two, would she hide…(let the universe forbid it) _pregnancy_…from him?

Pregnant. Like the word was five miles high and blinking with neon lights in his brain.

He stood behind the bar counter to watch her and stay out of her way (like before) as she moved around, searching through cabinets and the refrigerator for 'edible sustenance'. If she was pregnant- -please, please, let that not happen, the very idea of parenthood terrified him beyond all reason- -he realized he had no idea how she would respond to it. He didn't think she'd freak about it, but he couldn't tell if she'd let him in on it or not.

"What's up?"

Her question startled him out his thoughts. "Hunh?"

"You were staring at me and you have that little line between your eyebrows."

"I was?" Self-consciously, he rubbed his forehead as if to erase the line she saw. "Ino…you would…" How to phrase this? "Would you tell me? If you were, you know," he made a round gesture out over his stomach to indicate what he meant. The word seemed to stick in his throat.

"Pregnant?" Her lips slanted; she was amused. "Of course."

"Okay, good." He supposed that was a relief.

"I'm pregnant."

For a stricken, silent minute he believed her, until he noticed her mouth pursing in the attempt to control a laugh. "That's not funny, Yamanaka."

She did laugh at his response. "You're too easy to tease. AH! Let's have pancakes," she continued and busied herself in rummaging around his cabinets for a pan.

Later, when she was in the middle of washing the dishes and he, drying them, she hummed in her throat. Just a perfunctory '_hm_', as though she'd come to a conclusion that had been eluding her. Her eyes were focused out the window over the kitchen sink, and even when he followed her gaze, he didn't see what she saw, only the short margin of lawn before the trees surrounded his house.

"I can tell you're plotting something," he said, but he wasn't upset- -more curious to know what she thought.

"You should plant some flowers over there, so you have something to look at out of the kitchen."

She referred to a shaded spot under a tree that was a few yards from the house. He could tell she'd already made up her mind, so he played along. "I've had the same idea, but I'm afraid I'm no good with flowers."

"Well, that's perfect then," she said, diving her hands back in the dish water. "I know everything there is to know about flowers."

With her father owning a flower shop that did brisk business, he was told, and the dozens of vases of flowers she kept around her own place, he did not doubt her word. "We can go after we're finished here. Is that good?"

A smile lit up her face. "Yes, that's very good."

As they finished up the dishes and put them away, he pondered the existence of the warm glowing that had expanded to press against the walls of his chest. He'd felt this before when the Third had praised him or had given him special attention for mastering a jutsu, or when Kakashi gave a glib compliment. He was happy. The knife-edgy feeling returned in his stomach, but he put off thinking about it. Why shouldn't he have a bit of happiness? And more importantly, he was having _fun_ with Ino. That he was thoroughly and completely emotionally compromised did not deter his mood.

The flower shopping that followed was an event that surprisingly, he enjoyed. Ino's foundation of knowledge enlightened him, because, like most people, he figured a flower was a flower, and that one was as good as the next. But when faced with the variations, types, and colors, he was relieved that Ino helped guide him with his choices. They settled on some hardy pansies and begonias, and for some variation, hollyhocks for the sunny spot right under the window.

Outside, they worked on their knees, using trowels to dig inches-deep divots to plant the flowers, and he used his water jutsu to wet the earth to make it pliable to their demands. He was engrossed in the art of pressing the cold, wet soil, dark and rich under his hands, around the flowers' roots. There was peacefulness in the riotous color of the flowers, the way they sat patiently waiting for his attention, and as with his houseplants, he felt a connection, if not a responsibility, to them. After a while, he glanced up and caught Ino staring at him, her look intense and penetrating.

Defensively, he sat back on his heels. "What?"

"Nothing," she said, "just that, when I look at you, I feel like I'm looking at a quiet pool that goes deeper than anyone could possibly know. Sometimes," she continued, crawling over on her hands and knees to kiss him, "I like to drop stones in you to see how far they sink."

Habitually, he caressed the nape of her neck, forgetting his hands were coated in soil, and when she broke the kiss, he said, "The thing is, Ino, you heave in buckets of stones, rather than one at a time."

Her roaring laughter surprised and pleased him, but long after she wiped the mirth-tears from her eyes, when they were in bed together, her comment to him kept him awake. The statement had been metaphorical. Did she mean she behaved in a certain manner to see the effect she had on him? He'd revealed to her his sad, miserable history, so what purpose would she have in 'dropping stones' in him? And how much of her behavior was calculated to draw a response from him?

Very rarely had he determined Ino's behavior to be calculated- -perhaps when she'd read the palm of his hand and then had touched his face in that seductive manner; the one time when she confronted him wearing purple leopard-print underwear; then when she'd wanted to research the combination jutsu and had him run all over town…okay, so, yes, there were instances in their history where she'd purposefully behaved in a manner to extract a behavior from him. But couldn't all that be the exception that proved the rule?

Why am I so worried about it? he asked himself. She was an opportunity to indulge in never-before-had experiences. There was no real reason to analyze everything she said and did to death. Her care for him and his feelings were apparent in her daily actions, words, and expressions, and moreover, he trusted the truth he read in those nuances. Everything was fine.

That night, a nightmare ripped through him. Still in the throes of it, he bolted upright, every part of him rattling with cold, seeing only the flat grey walls and fluorescent lights of the laboratory, the screams of innocent children in his ears and he had _tried _to please Orochimaru, had _tried _to save them, but he'd been imperfect and displeasing and had been punished with witnessing the slow deaths of those children; Orochimaru liked to take his time with killing since he relished the tearful screaming, licking the gushing blood with that pink, curling tongue as if it was a rare treat. Guilt and misery and terror vied for control over Thirty-(_ssssss_)six, sloshed up and over his nose and mouth until he suffocated from them, and then there was a hand in his, squeezing tight, and a voice whispered to him in a tone that flicked on a light in the dark for him to look to.

The voice told him to breathe, and the inhale was jagged and painful, but the breathing that followed became easier. Then the voice told him he was not in a lab, that he was not four years old, that he was not under Orochimaru's control. He was safe, he was necessary, he was loved. Did he remember the flowers? Yes, he did- -the bright purple and yellow in soft petals, and flexible, green stems. Those had been the pansies. Bright red, and stiffer, prickly stems were the begonias. Would he maybe like to plant some roses? Deep, dark maroon, or pink or white or pale yellow, with the signature scent that would waft through the open windows in the summer. Something to look forward to every year.

He awoke, fully, with the smell of fresh roses around him. Home. His bed. The bedside light was on and sitting up beside him was Ino, his hand gripped in hers and her other hand stroking his face. She kissed the back of his hand, touched it to her cheek. And her careful gesture stirred an all-enveloping warmth inside him and looking to prolong the feeling, he reached out and drew her closer to him. She gave him freedom from the recent nightmare, smoothing her hands along his back, allowing him to take from her without question or resistance. _It is good for you to receive_. He accepted her gift.

The mess of fear and grief washed from him as he copulated with Ino under his own volition. She complied to his pace, to his demands, allowed him power over her, until his sanity crept from hiding and all that was left was a sedate fog. He didn't have enough energy afterwards to even roll back to his side of the bed. His face was comfortably fit in the crook of her neck, her body fit under his, and he grunted in irritation when she reached out, shifting slightly, to click off the lamp. And as if the nightmare never happened, he faded into sleep.

Days passed; nothing was mentioned of his nightmare. The rhythm of living had never come so naturally to him before, as if Ino had been an undiscovered part of him until recently. But then someone knocked on his door and disturbed the pace of their existence.

He and Ino were in the middle of lunch, eating, for a change, on the back porch. He'd felt the person step onto his land, and he opened the door to a Konoha messenger, wearing the patch and uniform indicating their profession.

"Message for Yamanaka Ino," the messenger said, popping out a small scroll from a holder over his shoulder. "She available?"

Yamato called over his shoulder. "Ino? A message." He wasn't sure if he liked that the Hokage knew Ino had been staying with him.

Ino crossed through the living room, trading places with him at the door. The messenger had her confirm her chakra signature on some special paper and then handed her the scroll. They thanked each other. When the messenger left, Ino brushed past Yamato, returning to the back porch, where she set the scroll on the table to the side, unopened.

"It can wait," she told him when he looked at her pointedly, "until after lunch."

He surmised the truth. "You know what it is. You're called in for a mission."

"I said it can wait."

They gazed at each other, measuring, until Ino sat and stabbed her salad with her fork. She wasn't going to tell him yet. Fine. Their conversation avoided the topic of the scroll. They finished eating and Ino stood, reaching to take their plates into the kitchen, but he grabbed her wrist.

"The scroll," he said, handing it to her. "What's the mission?"

"I don't have to open it to know what the mission is. I've had it coming," she answered lowly. She sat back down across from him, pushing the plates to the side and placing the scroll between them. "Listen, Captain. I'll be leaving Konoha in two days. You have the choice of coming with me or staying behind. I can't give you any details unless you agree to the mission first, blindly." Her gaze was level. "I'm going to give you until the morning after tomorrow to decide what it's going to be."

The sudden turn of conversation had him drawing back. Blind missions made him anxious. He liked to know at the onset what he was up against. "Wait. What do you mean a choice? How long will this mission take?"

She considered him a moment. Her finger tapped on the table. "The reason you have a choice is because the current mission may change your life, and it'll lead into another, more important mission that'll take a lifelong dedication to complete. I've already made the commitment. Meaning," her eyes were hard on him, "I'll be completing the mission objectives with or without you. To answer your latter question, the current mission's objectives will be completed in just under a year's time."

It was all coming at him too fast. He struggled to understand her. "I don't see the sense in this. Hasn't Lady Hokage given you orders for some R and R? Why would she choose you for the mission anyway?"

"You already know the answer to that question," she said, with a wry smile. "I'm the one shinobi capable of completing the mission objectives at this point."

The whole situation felt incomplete, as if he was not seeing the full picture. "Ino, do you want me with you?"

Only then did her face shift, but a moment later, she'd schooled it into neutrality. "What I want is irrelevant. This is about you and your choices. You have no obligation to attend the mission with me."

Had he not known her better, he would've believed her words to be true, but he heard how controlled the words sounded, how carefully she kept her face free of emotion. He sensed a trap he couldn't explain.

"Is this a test? I make a choice that you don't agree with then you argue with me?"

She laughed, disarming him. "Stop it! You're free to stay or go as you please. I swear I won't argue with you!"

"But-"

"Think about what _you_ truly want, _only _what you want." She rose. "I'll come back for your answer."

After circling the table to kiss him, she gathered the dishes. He watched, stunned into silence with nothing further to say, as she set them in the sink and left through the front doors without even gathering her personal affects from the upstairs bedroom or picking up the scroll from in front of him. Without even a goodbye or see you later. Almost as soon as that door shut, anxiety crept into him and slithered freely in his chest. And as before, he physically felt Ino's absence like a heavy blanket thrown over him.

The Third, long ago, had told him that all good things must come to an end. Ino was Yamato's good thing, and he didn't want her to leave. But she was going whether he liked it or not. His thoughts scattered, bringing up all sorts of different questions and feelings, and added to his confusion. Calm down, he thought, and go through the information slowly.

Ino was going on a mission that she was capable of completing on her own, without him. Why would he be offered the option if he was unnecessary? He believed that Ino would complete the mission on her own. She'd proven her skill time and time again. There was no reason this mission would be any different.

But she'd said that if he chose to go, the mission would change his life and segue into a mission that would take lifelong dedication. _Counterintelligence_. The word leapt up from the back of his mind and stood in front of him. The Hokage may need a compatible couple to integrate into other villages to monitor movements of terrorist cells or to lure out Class S shinobi. How was that any different from what he and Ino were currently involved in? It could be that they would not be able to come back to Konoha. Home. Would he be able to sacrifice his home in order to protect it?

He would never see Kakashi again. A ghost pain raced across his palm- -reminding him of his promise never to leave Kakashi behind. He'd promised Kakashi he'd stay, always. And he always had. Then he would never see _Ino _again. Essentially, he was choosing between them. Was that why she'd given him the choice? She'd said she never wanted to divide him and Kakashi, and if she already knew the mission would prevent them from returning home to Konoha, he could see her sacrificing herself for his happiness.

Could he allow her to make that sacrifice? Not that she had the option; she had her orders from the Hokage. But perhaps he was seeing the worst case scenario. The mission would be completed in under a year's time, Ino'd said. She might return home.

Then what?

Abruptly, he stood and stepped off the porch to roam through the copses of trees dotting his property. The afternoon sunlight speckled the green grass and bush, and insects and birds sang in the branches of the trees. A rapid tapping indicated a woodpecker's hard work. All this beauty and serenity would be sacrificed for the unknown.

It was time for the hard truth.

To be frank, he'd been seeking an opportunity to cool the relationship with Ino, but he hadn't been able to create one on his own. He'd told himself over and over that he needed distance and space from Ino's persistent sexuality and now, he had an excuse to gain back the ground he'd lost to her in the recent months, his independence and privacy and self-sufficiency. She was too powerful, emotionally, and little by little, she'd wrought changes in him that he wasn't sure he could accept permanently.

He could tell Kakashi about sleeping with Ino and assure him it was all over. Then he'd be free to attend that neglected relationship. And that would mean sacrificing Ino. He knew Kakashi had pegged her correctly- -she was in love with him, her captain and mission partner, she'd picked him to give over everything to, even if she did not know his real name or the depths of the trauma Orochimaru had inflicted on him; she loved him regardless of his cool demeanor, or his treatment of her during their training, of his obsession with privacy, of the fact that the bond with the Third transcended even the promise to Kakashi.

She loved him, knew _he_ knew she did because she'd let him _see _it all inside her, and was allowing him to choose his own path. Because she loved him.

"Well, shit."

The monstrosity of this decision made him sick to his stomach. How could he choose? There was no right answer to the question.

Her parting words had told him to consider what he wanted and only what he wanted. So what did he want?

He looked at the sky for a while, was reminded of Ino's eyes, and filtered an answer to the question from multitudinous responses.

What he wanted was to reinforce the Third's vision of the Hidden Leaf, and it was necessary to be a functioning part of the village to ensure that vision. His place was here, where he could continue as a weapon and a shield for his people, not abroad.

He wanted to spare Ino the pain of seeing him suffer through frequent nightmares, of the anxiety of him deployed on dangerous, possibly fatal missions.

He wanted his normality, his peace and undisturbed quiet, which he would assuredly not have with Ino in his life.

And therein lay his answer.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, yes, I know I write men sort of stupid. But it works, right? =) Next chapter, _Calm Before the Storm_, will be published Feb. 18th. Until then!


	23. Calm Before the Storm

**A/N: **Welcome again, dear readers and lurkers...those of you still about! I'm resisting the urge to tap on my computer screen to see if there's any of you alive. =) All joking aside, please enjoy.

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**Chapter Twenty-three: Calm Before the Storm**

* * *

Assuming that once he'd made his decision that it would be the end of his anxiety had been a mistake. That he was not going with Ino he was fine with. Telling her his decision presented a whole new slew of difficulties. Though she'd sworn she wouldn't argue with him, he predicted she'd be hurt- -perhaps crushed with his decision. How should he deal with her if she cried? And even if she didn't cry, would she require him to explain his choice?

He'd been given the option to say no, and so he'd taken it. There was nothing wrong with that. _And _she'd told him to consider what _he_ wanted. If he'd thought of what _she'd _want him to say, he'd obviously be going. He exhaled out his self doubt and plucked up the confidence to follow through on his decision. The _right _decision.

The confrontation loomed ahead of him, like a sentence of execution, through the next day and night. He'd settled the matter with himself, but he continued to fret over Ino's response and how to be tactful in telling her. Finding small chores to occupy his time, such as putting away all Ino's stuff that she'd surely want to take with her, the hours passed and then he woke the morning of Ino's arrival.

He dressed and brewed coffee, but his heart wasn't in it. Fretfulness had succumbed to dread, and he began to get cold feet about seeing Ino, wishing almost that he didn't have to tell her, that he should hide from her. But that would be cowardly; he'd never forgive himself. His gaze went out the kitchen window to the freshly planted flowers. _Their _flowers. Then the front door opened. His stomach leapt.

Teasingly, he said, "Manners, Ino, manners," as he turned to greet her. He stopped short.

Kakashi's eyebrow was half-cocked. "Didn't realize I looked blonde today." He reached out to tap a finger against Yamato's forehead. "What? Your land-sensors not pick up my presence? Or have you been somewhat occupied?"

Tell him the truth about Ino, a thought said. Do it now to finish it. Be free. He obeyed so he could at last rid himself of guilt. "Yes, I've been…occupied. And," damn, his palms were clammy, "I want to tell you something."

"Is it that you've been planting flowers on your property? I like them."

Something about the ironic tone bugged Yamato. "No. It's-"

"Sowing your wild seed?"

Yamato hesitated…what was Kakashi _talking _about? Didn't he see how difficult this was? "No. I've been-"

"Plowing Ino?"

"I…" Kakashi's choice of words derailed him. "_What_?"

Kakashi chuckled, easily. "You've been sleeping with Ino."

"How did…?"

"From what I hear, Ino always makes her mark. She's had her eye on you for a while," Kakashi said. When he moved in, Yamato backed up, unsure of Kakashi's intent and a little skittish. "And besides, I thought it interesting the ways you tried to hide what you were doing from me."

"Kakashi, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to get out of hand," he replied, setting his mug in the sink for a distraction. "I hope I haven't made you feel…left behind."

"Nah." Kakashi peeled down the mask, and Yamato felt fidgety with what he assumed would happen next. "I thought I'd share."

"Wait." Yamato pressed a hand to Kakashi's chest to prevent any leaning forward. "There's more." Kakashi blinked, but complied by relaxing his stance. "Ino's going on a mission. I had the option of going with her or staying in Konoha."

When Yamato stopped there abruptly, unsure of how to proceed, Kakashi tilted his head. "What is it?"

"I…I picked to stay. I picked you," Yamato said. He grimaced when a hard aching started up in his chest. "The mission might have taken me away from Konoha permanently and I couldn't stand the thought of breaking our promise."

Kakashi upturned his gloved palm as if to examine the faint scar line he shared with Yamato. "Is that so."

"My problem is that I've come to this conclusion, but I don't know how to tell Ino," Yamato continued, sighing, and when he realized he'd started unconsciously rubbing the ache, he dropped his hand. "You were right. She's in love with me. I don't want to be tactless and make our parting any more painful. But how do you sugarcoat breaking someone's heart?"

Two hands squeezed his shoulders, and Yamato swung his gaze to Kakashi's smiling face. "Yamato, you don't. Ino'll understand. She made it your choice, knowing full well you had the option of saying no. If she couldn't take no for an answer, she'd never have given you the choice."

"I know, I just worry…"

Kakashi clucked his tongue, mouth distressingly near. "Don't worry. Tell her your decision then send her off with a good ole farewell."

And the kiss Kakashi landed on Yamato would not be denied. The chemistry curled from his very depths, burning his nerves white-hot and erupting with the power of a volcano under his stomach. _There _was the arousal he'd been missing, the kind that melted him, the kind that reaffirmed Kakashi's belief in their bond.

Air was hard to come by as Kakashi's hot tongue assaulted his mouth, with a mixture of teasing nips and hands framing his face so he had nowhere to go. God, he wasn't going anywhere. Fire in his chest burned to ash the painful ache, pushed his heart to a bursting point, had his knees wobbling from weakness. Then when Kakashi pulled away, Yamato couldn't stop from flinging his arms around Kakashi's neck and diving in for another round. He'd missed this _closeness_ with Kakashi, had been desperate to revive what they'd had before the trysts with Ino.

Kakashi allowed Yamato to sate himself, before breaking the kiss again. Kakashi's expression was unreadable, but his firm fingers pressed the back of Yamato's head, comforting, soothing. "I have to go. I'll see you later."

Up went the cloth mask. Dropping his arms, Yamato put a steadying hand on the countertop and watched Kakashi leave through the front door. He didn't feel Kakashi's movements on the property, and attributed it to the senses that continued to reel and tingle, but he was relieved. Feeling good. Shakily, he sat at the dinner table and waited for Ino's arrival. And waited. And waited.

Morning slipped into afternoon. Afternoon to evening. Where was Ino? Did the Hokage send her off without allowing her to get his decision? Possibly, but that didn't make sense.

As Yamato began to analyze the discrepancy, Kakashi crossed his land-sensors, and this time, Yamato definitely tracked his progress to the front of the house. Again, the front door opened to Kakashi's trademark saunter, his habitual slouch.

"Yo. How's it going?" he said, coming over to sit across from Yamato.

"She didn't show up."

"She didn't?" Surprised confusion illustrated his tone.

"No." Agitated, Yamato stood and paced to peer out the sliding doors into the backyard. Evening shadows were long and dark on the ground. "I can't figure out what happened. Did she have an emergency? Did she decide not to come?"

"Are we talking about Ino?"

Yamato turned to glare at Kakashi, too worried to pad his annoyance. "Going senile, old man? We discussed her this morning."

Kakashi's hands went up. "Whoa. No need to insult me. I'm trying to catch up to your conclusions, here."

"This morning," Yamato repeated, slowly, as if he'd been speaking too fast for Kakashi's comprehension, "I told you about Ino coming by for my decision on whether I should go with her on her mission. And I said I wasn't sure how to tell her no, and _you _told _me _to send her off with a good ole farewell. Then we kissed and you left. Well," he continued, pinching the bridge of his nose, "she didn't show up."

"Tenzou"- -Kakashi's tone was soft, serious, and the harbinger of a very, very bad feeling- -"that wasn't me."

Everything inside Yamato screeched to a grinding halt. He leveled off a gaze at Kakashi. "What did you say?"

"What you're talking about…that wasn't me. I was on a mission and just now got back. I've been gone all this week, in fact, since after Genma's party." His eye narrowed. "Did you not miss me?"

Son of a bitch, was all Yamato could think, son of a bitch, Ino had tricked him _again_, had made him so damn stupid and blind and complacent. He'd completely bought her transformation jutsu and her portrayal of his closest friend and lover, hadn't even seen _one _flaw this time because she hadn't wanted to get caught.

Dazed, bewildered, he moved to the living room and plopped limply into his armchair to gather his wits. Kakashi joined him after a moment, taking a seat on the couch nearest him. His hand reached out and patted Yamato's arm. The conciliatory gesture did not calm the churning mix of emotions that kept him off guard and dizzy. Sort of a stunned, relieved discombobulation.

"Tell me what's going on," Kakashi said. "Let me help."

Yamato shook his head. "It's all done. It's all done and I didn't even see it coming. She knew what I'd answer. She had me pegged the whole time," he said, staring at the middle distance for Ino's clever blue eyes and the stream of blonde hair, "and she made it easy for me. I can't goddamn believe it."

"Tenzou-"

"Don't fucking patronize me, Hatake," Yamato snapped. Anger broke the surface of his confusion. "I can't think about this anymore or I'll go crazy. I'm going to Leaf Blown," he said and stood to cross the floor to his hall closet for his flak jacket and hatsuburi. Drinking seemed to be a viable release for coping with Ino's incredible lunacy. "I need out of here for a bit."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Yamato looked hard at Kakashi. "I don't recall having asked for your opinion."

A long, frosty silence elapsed, which meant Kakashi was at a loss for words, though everything about his posture and gaze denoted nothing but neutrality. Yamato shrugged and turned on his heel. "Fine. You can stay here."

The threat, plus the walking out of the door, moved Kakashi's apathetic ass straight to Yamato's side. Nothing further was discussed as they leapt and leisurely sprinted over rooftops and through trees to Leaf Blown, and Yamato knew Kakashi bided his time, a silent sentinel with all the patience in the world. He didn't care. Kakashi could disapprove all he wanted, but disapproval wasn't stopping Yamato. Thankfully, no one in their active circle of acquaintances was at Leaf Blown, which made the drinking that much more private.

Getting obliterated with booze was commonly a waste of time and money, according to Yamato, but there were occasions when drunken haze was the best medicine. Ino's smooth and cool deception, her detached farewell to him through Kakashi's visage, definitely counted as one of those occasions. And when he couldn't see straight, his words slurred and unintelligible, body hanging off the bar, when Kakashi dipped under his shoulder to support him because the world would not accommodate his legs, when Yamanaka Ino was nothing but a name, and home a dark smear, he figured he'd accomplished his goal and willingly tumbled into sleep.

A phantom band squeezed his bicep, stirring him from dreamland. What the…oh, shit. All he wanted was to wallow, but the squeeze morphed to a hot sensation leaking from the ANBU tattoo- -an emergency call from Lady Hokage through the inked Leaf-swirl. The communication through tattoos was saved for the most urgent of situations; something big was going on.

Up and semi-coherent, Yamato brushed his teeth, choked down some aspirin and water- -praying the pills would minimize his rolling stomach and aching head soon- -and sprinted to the ANBU locker rooms in the Hokage Tower. He hauled and buckled on his ANBU uniform, checked his supplies, and entered Lady Hokage's office with minutes to spare. There were at least half a dozen others there, with tension so thick it could be cut. What was going on here?

Lady Hokage stood behind her desk with a pile of sealed scrolls, and her furrowed brow denoted irritation and worry. He'd been correct with his prior assumption; something major occurred that involved the safety and well-being of the Hidden Leaf. More ANBU arrived in the following minutes, but Yamato knew that though they stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the office, not all the ANBU would fit. She must've staggered the arrival time for the different divisions.

"ANBU," she said to command all her soldiers' attention, "shut up and listen up. Over the last twenty-four hours, marked targets and criminal organizations have been making unprecedented movements in the underground. Their assumed goal is the capture of an undercover shinobi, who holds a powerful weapon capable of defending and protecting the village. Perhaps this weapon will be even more imperative than Uzumaki Naruto.

"Our mission is to terminate all criminal activity associated with the capture of that agent. It is critical for the future of the Hidden Leaf that all of you complete your assigned objectives as quickly as possible. _Tenzou?_" Her voice thundered in Yamato's hurting brain. Thankfully his mask hid the wince.

"Yes, milady?" he said as he stepped forward through shoulders toward her.

"Good." Then she turned to her desk and began calling out the names of the ANBU around her, handing each of them a scroll. One by one, the shinobi disappeared from the office until he and the Hokage remained. "Tenzou," she said again, "You're the very best of the Assassination Cell, and it falls to you to have the hardest and most challenging job. You are to have no mercy and you do not have to be…overly neat about completing your objectives."

When she paused to hand him his scroll, he nodded. "I understand."

Her hand remained on the scroll, and the other one lifted up so that his hand, holding the scroll, was sandwiched between her smaller hands. "It goes without saying that there will be no back-up. And I wanted to warn you that there's a high probability that you'll cross paths with Kabuto, and, perhaps, Orochimaru." Her brown eyes hardened and a frown marred her face. "If that happens, do not engage. You're more valuable alive, and the completion of those objectives is your first priority."

"When will…?" _Chie join me,_ he was going to finish, before he caught himself and shut his big mouth. The stupid hang-over was to blame because he'd forgotten what Ino had said in their second-to-last conversation: that _her _mission would carry on for several months. "I won't disappoint, milady."

But her eyes had narrowed, had focused on him, and even though his mask protected him, he felt she could see him through the porcelain. Her hands continued to clasp his. "When will _what_?"

"It was nothing, milady. Is there anything else?"

She gazed at him for a long moment, appraising, but at last released her hold on his hand. "No, that will be all. Dismissed!"

He used his special technique to absorb into the wood floor of her office and slip out of the building. A short while later, he exited the village and paused to unseal the scroll and read his first set of directives. The Fifth had not exaggerated what he would be facing. His complex assignments would be challenging even with a team under his command, but because he didn't have that, the difficulty increased exponentially. She _had _said he needn't worry about being neat, so if the job could be accomplished by hack-and-slash, then so be it.

His katana, his jutsu, his skill were all a mighty scythe, threshing through the blood-filled stalks of Fire criminals, a blur of unquestionable loyalty and unstoppable power. But even at top speed and with rapid objective completion, he didn't get to his final assignment until two months after leaving Konoha on his first assignment. This last one slowed him down.

It involved a large, complex criminal organization- -not quite as vast and complex as the Akatsuki or Orochimaru's network- -but large enough that any whiff of assault would scatter the forces and cause a prolonged chase through Fire country. However careful his approach, the workings of his peers in the field had already spread rumors and whispers and warnings enough through the underground, so that he would need all his considerable skill and trickery to complete his final objectives.

The headquarters of the base was set up in the side of a remote mountain, which was useful in that Yamato could easy penetrate and move through the base without detection using his earth-style jutsu techniques. The manner of neutralizing the entire threat was a more difficult maneuver. He did not have the capacity to be everywhere at once, and because of that, there was the possibility of some targets escaping the area. To be most efficient, he could raze the mountain, collapsing it in on the base and therefore, destroying all those affiliated with the organization in one fell swoop then pick off the survivors.

After scouting around the mountain for the best method of weakening the tons of earth, Yamato noticed a constant flow of individuals and groups entering the base. Having done some preliminary investigation, Yamato saw that these people were not a part of the organization, but were what he assumed as fresh recruits. But there were _so many_. No organized criminal network needed dozens of fresh bodies, unless they were planning on paying for an army to advance on a village. And where were these unsavory men and women coming from? And for what reason? Was this new development known to Konoha?

He shouldn't dwell too much on it. His orders were the destruction of this base by any means necessary. It just seemed like there was too much activity going on in this supposed 'remote base' and that rang warning bells in Yamato's mind. Following his hunch, Yamato used a transformation jutsu to mimic an elderly man he'd neutralized recently and stepped on the road to blend into the loose line of travelers, knowing he would end up in a monstrous hall where there was the most activity. Starting his cover outside the base was less risky than suddenly appearing inside, which would give the enemy a chance to pick him out.

He managed to blend in and walk a half dozen yards undetected.

"Yo!" A heavy hand landed on Yamato's shoulder. "Yo, I'm talking to you old man."

Yamato hadn't expected to be addressed and turned to a large, brutish man, bald and brow lowered, with impressive musculature in his arms and chest. This could potentially pose a problem. "Yes?"

"Haven't you seen better days, old man? I mean, you oughta be in retirement," he continued. A few of his cohorts, who'd stopped and allowed the flow of traffic to wend around them, laughed. "You don't have a chance of beating me'n'my crew to the cash cow."

"Well," Yamato replied, doing his best to maintain an elderly persona as he brushed the man's hand off his shoulder, "we all have our strengths and weaknesses, don't we?"

He made to walk away from the lumbering idiot, but of course, a bully gets high off bossing and hurting others. Yamato felt the air change, a sudden intensity that he recognized as a rising attack, and dodged sideways to narrowly avoid a fist the size of a ham. Before, he'd been willing to live and let live, but he had not the time, nor the patience, to deal with playground bullies.

Quickly, he ducked under the large arm and with ease, slammed the heel of his palm into the man's nose. A sickly crunch with a spray of blood followed, and Yamato, having dialed the power of the blow to 'Kill' allowed the other to crumple limply to the path. Then he glared at the other men in the dead man's posse as a challenge. None stepped forward, and instead, moved onwards with tails firmly between their legs.

He was not further bothered as he shuffled along with other men, with a smattering of women, into the open area before a sheer cliff face rose up, grey and formidable, and formed into the jagged peaks of the mountain. Grand doors had been flung open to invite the travelers into the heart of the underground base, and once through the doors, the line of people writhed down a long hallway as torches threw out flickering shadows. The murmur of the crowd, which had bunched up some, echoed throughout the stone hallway. Uniformed guards lined the hall every so often, to prevent fights and sneaking, until the hallway opened up into an enormous, busy hall.

The hall was supported with mighty decorated columns that disappeared somewhere among the shadowed ceiling. More torches blazed in the hall, and Yamato saw that there were tables set up and manned by more uniformed guards, who were passing out what looked like brochures. A guard at the head of the line pointed individuals to tables, and after a few minutes of waiting, Yamato came to a stand at the front of one of these tables.

"All right then," said the guard, monotonously, "here's your field guide for capturing the bounty." He handed Yamato a thin, pocket-sized booklet that was bound in cheap brown cardboard. "Picture of the bounty is on the inside, with her last known location, description, and techniques. When the bounty is found, use her chakra signature to summon an emissary for Lord Orochimaru. The seal at the back can only be used with her chakra and only if she's alive. The emissary will bring the money and take the bounty off'n your hands. Questions?"

Curious, Yamato flipped to the first page of the booklet. The picture was a sketch, not a photo. A pretty smile, with big, pupil-less eyes framed with thick, feminine eyelashes, and a straight nose in the center. Fine eyebrows, and long, long hair pulled up in a high ponytail, with side-swept bangs that were not shaded or colored. A face he was intimately familiar with.

Ino's.

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**A/N:** I love putting Yamato through the paces, and I especially love Ino outsmarting the men-folk. Next chapter, _Aggressive Maneuvers,_ will out Feb. 25th. Until then!


	24. Aggressive Maneuvers

**A/N: **Welcome again, dear readers and lurkers. And so begins the last third of the novel, which I consider my best writing to date. Please enjoy.

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**Chapter Twenty-four: Aggressive Maneuvers**

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Ino's beautiful face next to an exorbitant amount of money in a booklet handed out to an indefinite number of criminals. He was _seeing _it but he couldn't quite believe it. A good proportion of him whipped up into a fury- -a seething, spitting wrath that if he let it loose, would go on a rampage the likes of the Nine-Tails Fox. But Yamato had more control than that. He was colder than that.

"I _said,_" the guard emphasized, "_questions_?"

"No."

Coolly detached, he tucked the booklet away and left the table. He was in the depths of organizing his assault, calculating how to destroy the exits and entrances and then collapse everything. The best method would be to create a wood clone to simultaneously cut off the large exit and entrance then kill any enemies in proximity. Several other, smaller, tunnels existed and so those would be destroyed as well. Once everyone was trapped…down comes the mountain.

And so he executed his plan. Molding the earth, hearing it rumble deep and tremulously, was cathartic for his tightly-reined rage. The techniques he used were simplistic, child's play. Methodically he neutralized all near targets outside the collapsed exit, before having to move through the rock to the innards of the base. Forcing the columns to break was a matter of messing with the solid ground and sending in thick, powerful trees and their roots to loosen and crack the rock, caving in the spaces that had been hacked out. Afterwards, he flooded the whole area with a deluge that would sink into the lowest tunnels and rooms.

When the air was no longer filled with the sound of crashing rock, when a period of no bird calls and no shouts and screams passed, only then did a corner of his sanity peel back to reveal panic. The poison called worry seeped through his veins and drove him hard toward Konoha. He thought with each hard strike of his heart of the danger poised to Ino. That cruel, cold, calculating Orochimaru had her in his sights, and with fangs bared, would sweep her into thick coils of muscular scales.

The poison pushed him, harder, faster. He did not stop for sleep, for food, for water. There were miles between him and his home, where the right channels could reach out to Ino and retract her safely into the heart of Konoha.

Please, please be safe. Come home. Come _home._

Exhaustion burned and then dully ached. It was nothing but an annoyance to be tolerated. Sweat had long since soaked all his gear. Air came in great gulps; the world was an unbroken, eternal path of green foliage. Endless. Impatience and the poisonous worry seeped into his thoughts.

What did Orochimaru want with Ino?

But the question was terrifyingly easy to answer: to torture her for information or to study and experiment on her.

_Why?_ a child's voice cried. _Why her? Why now?_

Lady Hokage's words to her ANBU troops spooled through his exhausted mind. All the ANBU activity was in response to the protection of an undercover agent with a powerful weapon. If Ino was that agent, what was this new weapon? Why her? Why now?

Repeating those questions did not help to divine an answer. Orochimaru's madness was impossible to predict and worse to face. Dozens, if not hundreds, of those little booklets were in the possession of dangerous criminals, not all of them shinobi, but that hardly mattered. Each one had her beauty in hand, her technique, and a price. How would she defend against so many?

Abruptly, after infinite hours, the stories-high tan walls of the Hidden Leaf village broke the dark green. So close to his goal, he moved full-speed over rooftops, leaping reckless heights and lengths, and moving through the walls of the Hokage Tower with jutsu. His chakra levels had diminished to dangerously low levels, and as he sunk through the ceiling of Lady Hokage's office, he lost hold of the technique and dropped to the floor with a limp thud, cracking his shoulder and gasping for oxygen.

Immediate hands on him, the cooling tingle of healing chakra, and Lady Hokage's sandy pigtails dangled in his vision. "Tenzou?" she said. "You still with us?"

He willed his arms to move but his body didn't comply. Thickly he said, "Pouch, milady. The booklet." It was an immense effort to speak, to breathe.

"That's not important right-"

"_Please,_" he said, struggling against her firm pressure. "Now!"

Her hands relented and he heard the rustle of cloth as she withdrew the cardboard booklet. "What is this?"

Panting for air, he watched as she inspected it then when she flipped it open, her eyes widened in shock the same time her eyebrows crunched together. Her face blurred, became shadowed, and he was in darkness and that darkness was cold with the soft whispers of scales sliding on the cement floor, of hisses echoing from corners, of a child's white-knuckled survival.

When he woke up, startled, a lamp shed light on him. A headache panged behind his eye. He'd been stripped of his mask and the armor, and an IV linked him to a bag of saline. Movement in his peripheral vision drew his attention to Lady Hokage at a medical station of sorts. He knew this place…the emergency medical bay off her office space where she'd kept Ino.

The effort he took to sit up failed and caught her attention. "Lay back down. You need rest."

Still, he fought to make his locked, stiff muscles function. "There isn't time. Those booklets…Ino should be warned. She needs protection."

Her hand pressed him back down into the cot. "It's taken care of. Rest."

A madness had descended on him from the poisonous worry, and he _had_ to see Ino breathing, speaking, living. Free from Orochimaru's shadow, free from the threat of danger. Yamato's struggle wasn't against orders or Lady Hokage, it was against what he knew the damage Orochimaru could inflict, a struggle against the horrors and wounds and malignancy of an insane scientist jutsu-freak. A struggle against the snuffing out of Ino's goodness and glowing light, his sun, his sky.

"Hold _still_, Tenzou!" Lady Hokage commanded.

But he couldn't; he had to intervene, had to stand between Ino and Orochimaru and no words could fully articulate the acute chronic conscience. There wasn't anyone else who could do it, but him. All responsibility fell on his shoulders. _He _would be to blame for Ino's capture or death. A flicker of movement- -Lady Hokage reached to the side. Her hand came back, and Yamato saw the needle, understood at once she meant to sedate him.

Things…got hazy, then, under the sharpened pinch of the headache behind his eye. He wasn't in the medical bay, but in the indiscriminate grey laboratory where sunlight never reached. There was Orochimaru, his yellow, slit-eyes slanted with purple, his skin lily-white (the color of truth and purity), a long, pink tongue hanging free over chin and chest, lolling, as he approached the table which strapped in a small boy too numbed by horror to even breathe. _Be still, be nothing, be invisible. Be like stone._

"This(sssss) will sting for a moment," he said as he held aloft a syringe, "but if you move, you'll suffer."

Oh, the frozen, mute boy knew suffering. He watched, helpless and unable to avoid fate, as Orochimaru (his god, this omnipotent being who saw, knew, controlled everything) swabbed pale skin with alcohol under the black 36 and slipped the slender steel needle beneath skin.

A bite like a snake's made him gasp despite the expectation.

"Tenzou? Tenzou, can you hear me?"

A knot tightened in his chest. The room shifted, looked different, shapes and shadows and light disassembled and reformed. He glanced wildly to his side, expecting black, silky hair, and that snake-tongue and found a woman with her heart in her eyes and a diamond jewel in her forehead instead. Who…?

She touched the side of his face with a gentle hand, stroking fingers into his hair. "Tenzou, it's all right. It's all right."

He blinked, placing her face and voice, and relaxed back, having realized he'd tensed up and released his held breath in a slow, purging exhale. Lady Hokage leaned over as if to study him. Her fingers continued to stroke back his hair. Silently, he kept his eyes on her until a fog fell over his senses and she faded from view. The wash of urgency penetrated, but sleep clamped him like a dog's teeth on a prized bone. Wakefulness eluded him, until someone shook his shoulder.

"Tenzou, it's time to wake up."

Whoever spoke had a familiar timbre of voice, reminding him of Ino when she'd been safe with him in bed, and he wished hard that it was her, but he woke to Lady Hokage as she leaned over him. He squinted, accepted her help in sitting up, and rubbed his eyes free of gunk. Muscles were stiff and bones cracked, firing off in sequence when she helped him to stand. Her fingers poked into him, his back, under his jaw, squeezing at intervals until she was satisfied and marked down a few things on a clipboard.

"What're my orders, milady?" he asked, his voice rusty with disuse. "Is Ino back?"

She set down the clipboard and treated him to a measured look. "Your orders are to rehydrate and rest for the next few days. That is all."

He knew her implication- -_Don't ask about Ino._ He should obey, but the poisonous worry continued to course through his veins. Orochimaru's dark presence seemed to eclipse Ino in Yamato's mind. "Lady Hokage, that booklet with Ino as the bounty…there were dozens being passed out, and who's to know how many more had been passed out before my arrival? Let me go and help to pull her out of the field."

"No."

"Then is she safe? In hiding?"

Her eyes hardened at his insolence. "Her condition and mission are classified. That is all, soldier."

She was final with her dismissal and Yamato knew she would force him to leave if he continued with his line of insubordinate questioning: _What is the weapon Ino has?_ "Yes, milady."

Silently, he passed through the cool halls to the ANBU locker rooms, showered, brushed his teeth, and redressed, all in an automatic vacuum. When he exited the Hokage Tower, he wasn't prepared for the sapping afternoon heat or for Kakashi and Team 7 to be waiting for him on the street. Naruto waved and grinned; Sakura had on a friendly smile; Sai at least attempted to look pleasant; and of course Kakashi's eye squinted in greeting.

"Welcome home," Naruto said. He patted Yamato's shoulder. "Didja miss us?"

Yamato returned the smiles and greetings as best he could, but the heat of the sun laid weight on his back. "Should we get some lunch then?" Or at least, get to somewhere with air conditioning.

Naruto was all for Ichiraku, but Sakura must've picked up on Yamato's gentle discouragements and aimed for a casual place indoors, which saved Yamato the unneeded hassle of talking Naruto out of ramen. Sai and Kakashi looked on without speaking, allowing the words and inflections of conversation to babble around them. Once decided, they all trooped down the street as the restaurant was near the Tower. Yamato kept to the back, one ear on Naruto's inane chatter and the rest of his mind inverting to Ino's safety in a fucked-up situation.

Mainly, his problem was the obstacle named Lady Hokage. What was the reason for her sudden reticence? Before, when discussing problems with his comrades, she'd been forthcoming with information. And now, after all these years and missions, she apparently decided that Yamato, her number one ANBU soldier, didn't need to know. Ironic, he thought, that the one time he _wanted _to know, she'd made her mind up in the opposite manner. As much as he squirmed in unknowing anguish, his discipline reminded him she was boss. If she thought it best he didn't know, surely he should respect her wishes.

All through lunch, he couldn't convince himself she was right. He absently nodded and murmured replies during conversation, and more than once noticed Kakashi's grey eye aimed at him. Most of Yamato's attention was out the window, on the waving green trees and clear sky, out past the hulking towers and walls, into the distance wherever Ino was. Perhaps she was even in Konoha, squirreled away in a top-secret facility; however, Yamato had plenty of experience with top-secret facilities, and he'd preferred to think of Ino in an open area with sunshine and flowers and fresh air.

A gentle hand on his forearm snapped him back. "…with us, Captain?" Sakura gazed at him expectantly with her coral-green eyes.

"Hm?"

"I said, are you still with us? You looked a million miles off," she repeated. Then her eyebrows knitted. "Is everything all right?"

He mustered a pleasant smile. "Yes, everything's fine. I was thinking about my last assignment."

She was easily appeased, unlike Ino, who dug and prodded, and turned her attention to an argument between Sai and Naruto. Kakashi was not misdirected and when they left the restaurant and said their goodbyes, Yamato knew he was in for an interrogation or at least that 'I know everything about you' tone Kakashi had mastered since they were teenagers. Surprisingly, Kakashi said nothing, but walked with him to the house and as soon as Yamato opened the front door, Kakashi jumped his bones.

What happened after was a blur of clothes stripped off between the flurry of kisses and touches, of flushed skin against skin, and Kakashi's possessive, wild nature pouring into Yamato's empty caverns. The whole experience came and went without denting Yamato's anxiety. He continued to thumb the sharp edge of uncertainty, staring at the ceiling until a stray thought bolted him upright in bed. Kakashi grunted beside him and didn't move.

"The flowers"- - that he'd forgotten all about in the suddenness of a mission for two months. "Dammit!"

He swung out of bed, put on his pants, and grumbled about the money he'd spent on those flowers now gone to waste. Outside was nearing evening, as he and Kakashi had been busy all afternoon, and the noises of mid-summer were going strong. Fireflies were abundant and hung in a flashing cloud against the deepening skies. But Yamato's attention was on the plot cleared out for the flowers, and how those two-month neglected pansies and begonias had flourished into mounds of colored blossoms. Had someone been attending the garden?

He couldn't think who'd know about the garden enough to come and regularly care for the plants. His houseplants were fine, but they were a hardy sort, and so didn't need constant attending even though they got it. Well, there was no use in standing out there all night hypothesizing. Yamato returned to bed and attempted to ignore the air of mystery surrounding Ino's mission, plus the cared-for flowers. Where was she? Was she safe?

Come home, Ino. Come home to _me._

When he woke, he was at first surprised that he'd been asleep, and then the panic set in. His heart raced in his chest and throat, thundering behind his ribs, and a sticky sheen of sweat filmed his skin. A nightmare. He usually could remember what the dream was, but this time he didn't. His stomach hurt, felt like a scalpel had sliced into his tissue and muscle, and even though he knew he wouldn't find a mark, he lifted the sheet to check. Nothing. The pain receded and left in its wake an angry throbbing.

More than likely, the pain was his subconscious calling attention to the fact he wasn't doing anything to protect Ino. The matter was out of his hands, though. What was he supposed to do? Circumvent the _Hokage_?

And a thought occurred. His heart, tempered some, set back to pounding. The Hokage's Vault, where all classified source material was filed for shinobi of the Hidden Leaf. The Vault was guarded and locked with a chakra-nature seal that was additionally 'programmed' for the DNA of the Hokage. The Vault would open for him because of the First Hokage's genes- -a fact that the Third had called attention to when he showed Yamato how it worked. The old man had wanted Yamato to understand precisely what the implanted DNA could do.

But the consequences would be…execution. Maybe exile with a permanent chakra-suppression seal _if_ he was lucky.

No way. He respected authority too much, was too disciplined a soldier to take such a drastic action. The Hokage said she'd handled Ino's case, and so he should let the worry pass. Let it pass. The night _did _pass, without an attempt at sleep, but the worry remained, tainting Yamato's every thought no matter his annoyance and continued measures to avoid it. When Kakashi came downstairs, Yamato had a hand on his coffee mug, and supporting his chin with the other, stared out the window into the unknown.

"How long have you been brooding?" Kakashi asked, taking a seat next to him at the table. He was fully dressed, with the exception of his flak jacket and hitai-ate. The mask was in place; his Sharingan eye was habitually closed and the scar an uninterrupted white line. "Your coffee's cold."

"Hm. It's nothing." There was no point in articulating his thoughts. Kakashi had probably figured it out on his own with his genius intellect.

"You're stressing over Ino."

"I said it's nothing." A few birds fluttered around the window, the chirps cheerful and vivid. "I can't do anything anyway."

"Bring me up to speed."

At this, Yamato turned his head to meet Kakashi's gaze. "Kakashi…." He trailed off under the intensity of Kakashi's look and sighed. "My last mission involved destroying an enemy base. When I got there, they were distributing what was essentially a Bingo book focused on Ino. Hundreds of these got out," Yamato said. He swirled his coffee in the cup. "I think Orochimaru's behind it, based on the amount of money printed in the book and other intelligence I gathered. I destroyed the base, with as many of the bounty hunters as I could manage, but I'm not sure it was enough. Lady Hokage assured me Ino was taken care of, but wouldn't let me go into the field after her. When I pressed, she told me Ino's mission was classified."

"You're not sure what it means."

"All of it," Yamato answered and set the coffee mug on the smooth wood tabletop. He'd lost the taste for it anyway. "What would Orochimaru want with Ino? Why now? Why is Lady Hokage blocking me from fully understanding the situation? What is she hiding from me?" He paused, considering the facts. "I know that before I left for my mission, she went on about stopping all criminal activity involving an undercover agent who was protecting a powerful new weapon."

"So you think the undercover agent is Ino. What would the weapon be?"

Yamato frowned. "I have no idea. But it would make sense for Orochimaru to be interested in obtaining it."

"You mentioned he wanted her alive. If the weapon was an object, why would he want _her_?"

"Maybe because without her, whatever-it-is won't work. Though he could torture her for information or force her to show him how to use it."

There was a beat of silence, where Kakashi stared at the middle distance and Yamato tapped a finger on the table. Kakashi said, "Ino _is _in significant danger, and you are the best choice to protect her. There's something else going on." Another considerable pause. "How badly do you want to know?"

After the question, they shared a private look as Yamato gleaned from Kakashi's question what Kakashi wanted him to know. Just as he'd considered it the previous night, Kakashi was thinking of breaking into the Hokage's Vault to pinpoint the exact summation of the events adding to this mystery. His stomach twisted uncomfortably.

Yamato shook his head. "No. _No,_ Hatake. I don't want to be executed for treason."

"Worst case scenario," said Kakashi, with a dismissive wave. "But best case…we find out what's going on and no one has to know."

"It's breaking _the law._" He used his hands to demonstrate the scales of justice. "You know, the very thing we're supposed to represent and uphold?"

"Don't act so disgusted. You've thought of it too."

"Yes, but I don't have the moral fiber of a maggot."

There was a smirk in Kakashi's voice as he answered. "Moral fiber or not, how badly do you want to understand Ino's situation?"

"Find another point to argue. I understand the situation just fine."

"Aaah"- -Kakashi's forefinger gestured as the Third had done countless times in Yamato's presence- -"but do you _really _understand? A river may look calm and shallow…"

"…except for the force and depth underneath the surface," Yamato finished the Third's fourth-favored quote automatically. "But this is Ino's life we're talking about, here, not a river!"

"Exactly. This _is _Ino's life," repeated Kakashi. "You'll know whether to worry and take initiative or to let it be."

Yamato pressed a few fingers to the bridge of his nose to alleviate an aching there. Kakashi had a point. Yamato didn't like the point, but it was still a good one, and he could tell Kakashi wanted him to choose his course of action then and there. Should he risk execution so he could _know _what the hell was going on, or should he continue to be plagued with anxiety and what ifs? From somewhere in the back of his mind, guilt reminded him that he _chose_ to stay, when he could've gone with her. The decision now seemed incredibly selfish and wrong. He could've been in the thick of it…but he'd backed out because he hadn't known what he was up against.

Cowardly.

He curled his hand into a fist. With Kakashi, he could rectify his mistake. If he was executed, so be it, and at least he knew he had it coming.

To Kakashi, "What did you have in mind?"

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**A/N:** Yeeees. What does Kakashi have in mind? Hmmmm. To find out, read next week's chapter, _Unexpected Complications. _Until then!


	25. Unexpected Complications

**A/N:** Welcome back, dear readers and lurkers. I hope you enjoyed the last chapter. This next chapter continues to be one of my favorites. I hope it meets your expectations!

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**Chapter Twenty-five: Unexpected Complications**

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Kakashi leaned back. "Convincing you was easier than I thought."

"Shut up. You obviously have a plan, so let's hear it." Yamato brushed some forgotten crumbs off the table. "It'd better be good."

"_All _my plans are good," Kakashi replied and continued over Yamato's snort. "We need to sweet-talk the guard schedule out of Shizune, then pick a shift and pose as the relieving ANBU, or if you're in a hurry, use a transformation jutsu to disguise yourself as the Fifth while I distract the guards."

"Both those ideas sound too simple and definitely suicidal."

"You have any better ideas?"

Yamato sighed. "I guess we should get it over with."

"You're acting like you're not one of _the _best ANBU soldiers. If you don't have the stomach for it, now's the time."

Yamato chose to pin Kakashi with a cool glare, under which Kakashi shrugged, and he knew Kakashi was off-handedly trying to flatter him. He didn't like that it worked, and he especially didn't like that he was using his Konoha-trained abilities to participate in treachery against Konoha. Oh, God. His head was rolling for this one, but there wasn't another choice for him. Together, he and Kakashi moved to the hall closet, slipped into their flak jackets, and left the house without further conversation.

If Yamato remembered correctly, the Vault was located in a sub-level underneath the Hokage Tower. A secret stairway led to the sub-level, and the Vault itself was closely guarded by two ANBU. The Vault's door was flush against the floor of the sub-level and opened up like a hatch. Yamato had not gone inside the Vault, but the Third had revealed that the walls of it were secure. The only way in or out of the Vault was through the hatch. Attempts to break into the Vault without the proper procedure would activate a lockdown, but Yamato was unsure of the lockdown procedure. The Third hadn't educated him in that aspect.

When the Hokage Tower came within sight, Kakashi slowed and came to a stop on a residential rooftop. Then he turned to Yamato.

"You sure you want to go through with this?" Kakashi asked, reaching into his hip-pouch. Yamato half-expected for an orange book to appear in his hand, but Kakashi pulled out a pair of ear-pieces. "Once you do, there's no turning back."

"Kakashi. Stop reminding me." Yamato took an ear-piece, adjusted it around his neck and into his ear cavity. A bit of feedback whined when he thumbed on the power, but the channel clicked on and tested clear. "I'm not changing my mind."

"I know. You usually don't," Kakashi replied. He leapt off the roof, angling toward the Tower.

Yamato frowned. "What's that even mean?"

But Kakashi didn't answer his question. Instead they moved as a unit closer and closer to the tall, slimly-designed cylindrical building with the Hokage crest hanging from the top. Nerves twanged, adrenaline spiked Yamato's system, pumping his blood and his heart harder, but he breathed in a steadying pattern to keep calm. He'd been in more dangerous, lethal situations before and hadn't had the same tangle of nerves he now experienced. Probably because his morality kept giving him glares of disgust and disappointment.

"How do you want to approach?" Kakashi asked over his shoulder.

"The less visible we are, the better. I don't want people making connections to me if the break-in is discovered." He considered a moment as they pressed closer to the building. "Let's go in from the top. The upper-levels are less populated, and we can take the stairwell down."

"Roger that."

They spiraled inwards, using the cover of residences and businesses to close in to the roof of their target building. Even then, the next tallest building fell short by a woeful measure of the Tower's height, so Yamato used a Wood Release technique to elevate them to the roof. They landed noiselessly, and they separated. Yamato ducked into cover behind some sort of ventilation system as Kakashi went ahead to scout the area, because if _he _was seen, no one would connect him to the crime they were about to commit.

Yamato's ear-piece clicked. Kakashi's voice was quiet. "No one's up here. You're clear."

Yamato rounded the system, weaving through cover to Kakashi, who'd opened a door that went into a darkened stairwell. They shared a glance- -Ready- -and with Kakashi as point, began their descent. They did not encounter anyone on the stairwell, though Yamato readied on each level to use jutsu to sink into the floors. His nerves were strung tight enough without convincing himself that they'd be caught and interrogated with each step closer they took to the Vault.

"Where's the secret entrance?" Kakashi whispered over the ear-piece. He was leading by a couple floors. "Not in the actual office, is it?"

"No. Keep going until you can't go any further."

Several minutes eked by. They were moving quickly, but at the same time, they were moving carefully. They were too good of soldiers to rush into a mistake. At last, Kakashi came to the end of the stairwell and relayed the message to Yamato, who met up with him a few seconds later. A pair of double doors led out into the reception area of the Office of the Hokage directly at the foot of the stairs. Through the small windows, Yamato could see the hustle and bustle of the ground floor. However, there was space that encircled the thick base of the stairs, and it was opposite the doors behind the stairs that Yamato led Kakashi.

"What now?"

Yamato glanced over. "Just watch."

Cinder block supported the stairs, with a few feet between the base and the wall of the building. Yamato charged chakra to his hands, murmured a string of key words that he hoped were correct as it had been nearly a lifetime since he'd last heard those words, and as a section of the cinder block glowed blue with intricate seals and calligraphy, a deep grating prefaced a small, four foot by four foot area sinking backwards a several feet. The chakra began unfurling in glowing curly-cues and lines in the pitch-black hole, illuminated another staircase that curved around into the depths of the Tower.

Yamato took the moment of hushed awe to transform into Lady Hokage. "How do I look?"

"Good enough," Kakashi replied. "You ready?"

An even glance was all Yamato spared Kakashi before stepping into the dimly lit corridor. The spiral steps had been cast with jutsu to display the footsteps of the shinobi descending, and it hadn't occurred to Yamato until now that their footsteps could be analyzed. It was too late. The further they continued, the cooler and more oppressed the air became, indicating their depth in the ground. The walls and stairs were hewn from the rock itself and seemingly smoothed…by fast-moving water? Yamato couldn't tell.

Down, down, down. How long would it be? The chakra he used to move the secret entrance had poured down the cracks in the walls, and the designs became murals that showed historic battles and clashes between legends, and Yamato was entranced, as he'd been when the Third had led him down here prior. The expanse of time allowed Yamato's nerves to cool. He hadn't remembered the intricate details, how at some points the walls became blank to showcase the ceiling and the important constellations marking time.

Running water interrupted the interminable silence, the soft breaths and footsteps, and the glow of chakra intensified, brightened, spilling into a round bubble of a room. The antechamber for the Vault. The rock was worked here, as well, but not solely as conduits for chakra. Large statues encased the circumference of the circular room, warriors standing at attention with swords, spears, and other deadly weapons.

All their eyes were blindfolded, and in the moment of hesitation on the final step, Yamato noticed two figures sitting in the center, flanking an upraised base. They too were blindfolded, and in the bluish light, Yamato noticed their hair was white and their faces sagging with the wrinkles and ravages of time. Dark robes flowed off their bony shoulders, pooling around them and disappearing into the shadows of the room. Where were the two ANBU guards he'd seen all those years ago? Had there been a change? Yamato's morality had itself a good, dark laugh at the sinking feeling.

"It's been a long time since we've felt this chakra, hasn't it, Number One Brother?" said the man sitting on the left.

Number One Brother inclined his head. "It has, indeed, Number Two Brother. But this chakra speaks of a different story than our honored First Hokage."

As they cackled drily, Kakashi leaned to whisper in Yamato's ear, "I think we're caught."

"Well, come forth, young man, and let's hear your reasons," said Number One Brother, after briefly coughing. "No need to be shy. Your companion can remain with you, if you prefer."

"As he has for many, many years," added Number Two Brother. And echoing whispers around the room rose goosebumps on Yamato's skin. He felt like the statues were speaking as well.

Yamato, too stunned to move off the last step, was helped on with a push from Kakashi. He stumbled into the room and the transformation jutsu dissipated when his foot came in contact with the lowered floor of the antechamber. Tingles burst under his skin, not an unpleasant sensation, but not one he liked. He had to pry his tongue from the roof of his mouth, as it had dried and stuck like glue.

"I'm…Yamato." Brilliant. "And this is Hatake Kakashi."

"Oh, haha, yes, _now _I remember," said Number One Brother. He completely disregarded Kakashi. "Our honorable Third Hokage brought this one in for a visit. You were just a youngster then, weren't you? Ah, no matter. How time passes. You've grown so much, and yet…you have more growing to do."

Number Two Brother leaned to the side, drawing Yamato's attention. "Hm. He's got traces of another shinobi's chakra in him. It was poured into him, filling him like a cup. And…_familiar._ More interesting that he'd be so accepting of it after-"

"Now, now, Number Two Brother," interrupted Number One Brother, "don't scare him into fluttering away. So then," he continued, conversationally, "explain your presence, Oh Child of the Trees."

"I, ah"- -where the hell to begin?- -"have to view a file."

Both the brothers cackled themselves into coughing fits, and he heard Kakashi sigh in exasperation behind him. Number Two Brother wiped a tear from between wrinkles and said, "Well, of course you do. But what brings you into the depths of the Hokage Tower without our honorable Fifth Hokage? Surely you realize your coming here, if discovered, could result in execution? But you are an excellent soldier, loyal to Konoha and her king, and you know the consequences. You arrive here _regardless _of them. Why, One Who is Unchanging yet Changes?"

Yamato crossed his arms. The chill had gotten to him. "It has to do with…my ANBU partner and Orochimaru." The name buzzed and echoed around the antechamber, stirring the hairs on Yamato's body. He swallowed, waiting, and when the noise calmed, he continued. "I'm concerned that Orochimaru"- -he hesitated when the whispers started up again- -"is after her. I want her file to see what she has that he wants."

"Hm," grunted Number One Brother, "why risk your life and career for the information you seek, you, who are worthy of greatness?"

Yamato scowled, not ready to answer the question, but Kakashi put a hand on his shoulder and said, "The truth."

Fine, but it didn't mean he had to like it. "Lady Hokage wouldn't give me the information, probably because of a choice I made." That was the bare minimum. "I know I made a mistake and I want to correct it."

Number One Brother said, "Aah. Redemption!" the same time Number Two Brother said, "A second chance!"

Together they said, "Who is she? Whose file do you wish to view?"

"Yamanaka Ino's," Yamato answered.

There was a pause and then a sigh, like air releasing from more bodies than were present, and the two brothers repeated her name. Her name bounced around the antechamber, as Yamato exchanged a look with Kakashi, who shrugged, having no answers.

"What is it?" Yamato asked when a hush settled on them.

Number One Brother gestured to the upraised section he sat beside. "You may enter the Vault, Keeper of Many Secrets."

Grating, of smoothed stone against smoothed stone, rumbled through the chamber. The base rotated slowly and rose from the floor to show a cylinder capsule big enough for a single person. When the grating stopped, a part of the stone cylinder slid apart, revealing a hollow center.

"Only you may enter the Vault," said Number Two Brother. "Hatake Kakashi, Scarecrow of Konoha, must remain here."

Yamato cracked a smile at Kakashi. "Disappointed?"

"Very," answered Kakashi. "Don't keep me waiting."

Yamato nodded, and pausing enough to inhale, stepped into the enclosed capsule. Immediately the door slid shut, but the blue light traced designs on the inside of the stone. A second later, the door slid open. The ride down had been so quick and so quiet, Yamato had thought something had gone wrong, and he hadn't gotten to the Vault. Inside the Vault, though, were no stone statues, or odd elderly men, nor were there any bookcases or shelves of any kind. Instead, the room was a seamless white, and no shape or texture of any kind. Nearby a glass table and a light-weight, steel-colored chair were positioned. On the table was a blue tattered file, and when Yamato approached, he saw it was labeled as Ino's. Here, two-inches thick, was her life's work.

He stood rooted to the spot, gazing at the file. Nothing crossed his mind, except a feeling of assured trepidation. He was nosing into a background that was none of his business. How hypocritical of him to ignore privacy when privacy was his own obsession. But he hadn't broken the law to leave her file unread. Stiffly, Yamato drew out the chair and sat. Then he opened the file to the first document.

A copy of her birth certificate and medical records when she was a child; she'd been healthy, with no allergies. She'd started training young, had shown an aptitude for kunoichi skills and had passed all her tests with high marks. Her father had taken her on her first mission, a surprisingly dangerous one at that, which required a small, innocent girl to infiltrate and be a distraction. There were a few others similar to that, even as she began Academy.

Based on several reports, her Academy education was supplemented by lessons among the Torture and Interrogation Squad; though she was under orders to keep those honed skills secret. Yamato knew the level of her skills had been left out of his initial report, and felt smug his hunch had been correct. She'd been holding back her true potential for years, then.

Her career after graduating was more interesting. Her father had geared her toward ANBU, and several missions besides her team ones were documented. These side missions continued, as well as low-key lessons from the Interrogation Squad continued until her eighteenth birthday.

At this point, a document, covered with the Lady Hokage's scrawl, interrupted the timeline. The first line stopped Yamato: _Yamanaka Ino has surpassed all expectations given to her by the Third Hokage and she is ready to commit to the next stage of her mission_.

What mission did he miss? He flipped back, scanning, and discovered another document, written by the Third when Ino was six years old that had been folded over, hence the reason Yamato'd missed it on the first flip-through. The gist of it was that Ino was to excel in secret but publicly withhold her abilities. She was to be an unassuming teenage girl. When her skills were developed satisfactorily, she would be given the opportunity for training and partnership in the ANBU corps with…codename Tenzou?

Yamato stared down at his codename. Why _him_? Then he saw the next little part of the line: _…as per her request._ Ino, at six years old, requested him to be her ANBU trainer and partner. How? How could she have known about him? He would've been fourteen and completely out of her world. Had the Third made a mistake? Further reading indicated that, no, the Third had not made a mistake.

_Codename Tenzou has the kekkei genkai of Wood Release, the ability injected into his genes from Orochimaru's experiments involving the First Hokage's DNA. As of date, he is the single person to be able to utilize Wood Release techniques. It is my concern that if no action is taken, the Wood Release techniques will disappear into history, should codename Tenzou be terminated._

_Yamanaka Ino and Mitarashi Anko are so far the best chances at the Wood Release bloodline sustaining into a new generation, but it is Ino who has suggested this herself. To indulge in a personal opinion, the Yamanaka clan has the unique ability to adapt to the people closest to them and is historically adaptable to bloodline limits, as proven through previous unions with both the Uchiha clan and the Hyuuga clan._

_Therefore, I'm sustaining Yamanaka Ino's mission request to train with the goal of conceiving codename Tenzou's offspring and continuing the Wood Release technique to a new generation._

At that, Yamato was physically incapable of movement or breathing or thought for several seconds. He read the lines again, because he wasn't sure he comprehended them, and when he _did _comprehend them, he couldn't be sure he read them correctly. Then the words kicked him in the chest, expelling the air in his lungs, and somehow made him feel like he couldn't inhale at the same time. Dizziness plus a sense of detachment followed, allowing him to return to the document. He saw that this document had been paper-clipped to what he assumed were related reports and objective sheets.

Lady Hokage's report read like the plot of one of Kakashi's porn novels, including objectives such as _Engage in sexual contact with target_ and _Confirm conception._ The attached papers were in that slanted, feminine handwriting he recognized as Ino's, and at a glance, he saw they were descriptions of the 'sexual contact', but written in a way totally devoid of emotion. There was a doctor's medical chart, filled out by Lady Hokage, confirming Ino's pregnancy that coincided with the date of her collapse and subsequent four-day leave. She'd been ten weeks pregnant.

And the information hit him like a ton of bricks falling on his head. Ino was pregnant. Is. _Is _pregnant. His breath came faster and faster until he panted for it. He couldn't fucking breathe. It hurt too much to breathe.

In a dream-like state (nightmare-like state?), Yamato returned his attention to Lady Hokage's report. A few seconds were necessary to focus his eyes into reading words. On a second page, she'd written: _Ino has won a favor from me that I disagree with, but have granted her due to her excellent service. Codename Tenzou was given the choice to continue with her on her mission as her partner, but has declined to proceed._

_Therefore, Ino's new mission objectives are to: 1) Reintegrate into civilian life to protect the impending birth of codename Tenzou's child; 2) Choose an appropriate codename and identity unknown to civilians and shinobi; 3) Commence with blackout procedures; 4) Birth, raise, and protect the child of codename Tenzou; and 5) Return to Konohagakure at such a time as is safe for her and the child, therein further mission objectives will be implemented._

Those mission objectives gnawed at him. What did Lady Hokage _mean_ 'commence with blackout procedures'? Reintegration meant Ino should have been given an undercover identity, but when Yamato thumbed through the rest of the documents, he couldn't find the papers establishing that identity. Son of a bitch…the second objective wasn't a joke. It meant _no one _knew who Ino was, and objective number three implied that Ino would not be establishing contact or communication of any sort to the Hidden Leaf. No wonder Lady Hokage hadn't told him of Ino's condition or location- -not that she wouldn't_, _but that she _couldn't._

Ino, pregnant, was out there by herself without any backup or support system of any kind. Alone. Without him. Orochimaru was after her, had sent hundreds of criminals her way. A wave of nausea flooded Yamato enough that he had to put his head on the table. Fuck. _Fuck._ What Orochimaru wanted was to capture Ino and experiment (or worse, no, don't think of it) on her baby. Yamato'sbaby. _Their _baby. The rush of blood pulsed in his ears. He thought he saw a flicker of movement, low to the floor, but when he glanced over, nothing was there.

The white space was too big. Yamato went to close the file, and didn't understand why his fingers couldn't grasp the edges of the folder until he realized he was shaking too badly. When he stood, the world rocked and swayed, sweeping from side to side, until he stumbled into the stone transport. Being enclosed for a brief moment gave him no purchase on the tilting floor, so when the capsule opened, he pitched forward and sprawled out on the cold slab of rock at Kakashi's feet.

"Hey, whoa," Kakashi said, his voice muted by ringing in Yamato's ears. He didn't even feel Kakashi heft him to his feet. "You're shaking."

Yamato tried to speak, to say anything, but Orochimaru had robbed him of his identity and his voice. Kakashi said words, but those words were lost in the ringing, and Thirty-six, no, Yamato, no, Tenzou (who was he, really?) couldn't lip-read through a cloth mask. He watched from somewhere far, far back in his head as he floated in a dark tunnel decorated with blue glowing designs. Then there was light and lots of people and movement, and sunlight and the sky, but the world wouldn't hold still, was too enormous for understanding, and so Thirty-six/Tenzou/Yamato (he had another name but what was it?) closed his eyes for the encompassing dark.

But the dark held the writhing bodies of white snakes with burning yellow eyes and purple-dripping fangs, of soft hisses and the scrape of scales over the floor- -_be still, be invisible, be stone_- -and the constant threat of sudden death, only there was a girl (or was it a woman) with shining white-gold hair and striking blue eyes standing in the middle of all that terrible death and she was reaching for him, speaking to him, but he _couldn't hear_.

Fire poured down his throat and set him spasmodically coughing, yanking him from the dark, the snakes, and the woman. Kakashi pounded on his back with one hand, the other holding a glass tumbler with some whiskey, if Yamato's scratchy esophagus was any indication. He was home, but how they got there, he had no idea. Kakashi handed him the glass after he finished coughing.

"I figured that might revive you," said Kakashi, his voice loud and clear. The ringing had stopped. "Drink the rest of it."

Yamato did in a single gulp and reveled in the heat crawling up his neck to his cheeks and sloshing down his chest to his stomach, chasing away a chill that had crept into his bones. Kakashi took the glass from him and sat on the couch, and Yamato saw the concern in Kakashi's eye.

"So," Kakashi said, "want to tell me what all that was about?"

* * *

**A/N:** And what _will _Yamato say to his dearest friend Kakashi? Find out in _Aggrieved, _out to you on Mar. 10th. See you then! =)


	26. Aggrieved

**A/N:** Welcome back, dear readers and lurkers. I hope this chapter will continue to keep you on your toes. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-six: Aggrieved**

* * *

Yamato's mouth opened-closed-opened-closed, like a fish out of water. He hadn't even thought of what he would tell Kakashi, and worse, in his mind he saw a piece here and a piece there, but was unable to pull back and see the bigger picture. He knew all these small bits of information, and they seemed to fly about his head, evading his grip, spinning him around.

"Let me put it this way. Should we worry and take initiative or should we let it be?" Kakashi asked.

"I'm…I'm not sure." Yamato couldn't decide if he should spill everything or withhold. "We should worry, but I don't see how we can…take initiative."

"What's happened?"

"She's being used to bait Orochimaru and Kabuto," came Yamato's answer, "and keep their forces focused on her so that Naruto has more time to perfect his new techniques." Liar. You're a _liar._

Kakashi nodded. "I suspected as much. Has she implemented blackout procedures?"

"Yes. There was no record of her new identity or location. Everyone is blind." Yamato stared at his folded hands in his lap, trying to understand how he'd lied so smoothly to Kakashi. A headache pulsed behind his temples.

"A dead-end." Kakashi paused in thought. "Perhaps she's left some sort of indication of where she could be."

"Ino's not so careless as that," Yamato replied. His land-sensors zapped him- -three individuals, Naruto and Sakura, if he remembered their density and chakra information and one other, which would most likely be Sai. "We've got company."

"Ino's purposely subtle. You and I both know this. She wanted you along for her mission," Kakashi said, "and she knew you'd change your mind if you found out about it. She would've planted some information for you to follow."

Kakashi had a point. Ino's method of relaying information was certainly skillful, if not manipulative. All her prior behavior- -the time she researched the combination jutsu when she purposely made mistakes in her transformation jutsu- -had reflected carefully planned clues for him to trace. And the pregnancy.

The headache pounded hard and the file seemed a surreal dream. Had he imagined it all? Ino pregnant with his child. Two months ago would make her, shit, currently five, almost six, months along. She'd be showing. Why hadn't she _told _him? His sardonic voice answered: That wasn't her style, was it? She _had _told him in that conversation before her departure where he'd touched her swelling stomach, had felt life's heat and had thought she was joking. He'd been so damn eager to believe her lies that he hadn't picked up on the obvious truth, those clues she'd laid out at his feet. Gah, he was _so stupid._

"Hey! Knock, knock!" Sakura called as she opened the front door. Naruto followed on her heels as she said, "Master Kakashi? Captain? You in?"

Kakashi and Yamato exchanged a glance of agreement to continue their conversation later, and Kakashi stood. All eyes centered on him. "We're here, team. I see Sai's with us today."

"Yes." A quick, uncertain smile from the ex-Root soldier. "How are you, Master Kakashi and Captain Yamato?"

"We're fine. Yamato's joining us today," Kakashi said. "Isn't that right?"

What was Kakashi doing? "Actually, I have to-" Kakashi's eye landed on him and stopped him short with a 'Don't you dare' intensity that Yamato felt to his core. "Yes, that's right. Should we get going?"

"Awesome!" Naruto said in the beat of silence that followed, "I can't wait to show you guys this jutsu!"

Kakashi waved a lazy hand. "Now, now. I thought we'd work a little on teamwork, today. Lady Hokage has indicated that we're her 'go-to' team for important missions. One may come up soon and our teamwork should be flawless."

"Well, what're we waiting for? Let's go," Naruto said.

He turned on his heel and moved toward the front door. Sakura then Sai, and lastly, Kakashi and Yamato followed him. Together the group leapt through the trees and suburban sprawl of Konoha to an isolated training ground. As they dashed along, keeping a loose formation, Yamato kept catching a whiff of flower perfume, the kind that Ino wore and the smell churned up a feeling akin to homesickness- -a dull crack splitting his chest.

When they landed and Sakura stood next to him, he realized _she _wore the scent, and he strained to breathe more of that perfume into him. The flower-smell relieved the headache thumping through his brain a little, and he began thinking of what Kakashi had said about looking for clues Ino left behind. Her apartment would be the likeliest place, maybe even the flower shop where she worked, and he wouldn't put it above her to leave clues in _his _house. Everywhere she inhabited would have to be-

"Yamato? You get all that?"

Ah, crap. Everyone looked at him, expectantly, Kakashi's gaze heavy and searching, before Sakura said, "Don't worry, Master Kakashi. I'll give him the shortened version."

Kakashi nodded. "All right. Let's get into position. Ready…steady…go!"

Off dashed Naruto, Sai, and Kakashi, while Yamato followed Sakura into cover in the trees that surrounded the open area they had gathered together in. Sakura leaned close, and Yamato breathed evenly, deeply, each inhale loaded with rich, sweet relief.

"Captain, this is strictly a taijutsu battle," she whispered, brushing strands of hair out of her face. "No transformation and no swapping jutsu especially, but kunai, shiruken, tags, and wires are fine. Our goal is to incapacitate the other team. The purpose is to define our weaknesses and then work on strengthening them."

"I see."

But in actuality, none of this team-training made sense. Lady Hokage had kept these individuals as a team for years and years. Their teamwork _was _flawless. Was there something else going on that Yamato had missed?

He continued, "In that case, we might find success in dividing the squad up and facing each two-on-one. You're probably the best choice against Naruto and Sai, with me as back-up. I'll take Kakashi. He's not as prolific at taijutsu as he is in the other forms but his experience might be more challenging for you to defend against." He'd been looking out across the field as he spoke, but when Sakura didn't answer him, he glanced at her. She gazed at him with mild concern. "What's wrong?"

"I was…going to ask you the same," she said. "It's not like you to be inattentive."

He sighed. "To be honest, I shouldn't have come. Lady Hokage ordered me to rest, but Kakashi wanted to include me for whatever reason."

"He thinks he has to watch out for you." Sakura continued leaning forward as though she was divining answers through proximity. The perfume soaked Yamato's mind and he fought against closing his eyes and jamming his nose into her neck. Projecting Ino onto Sakura would be disastrous, so he shifted back. She said, "What happened on this last mission of yours?"

"I-" Yamato floundered for an adequate response. "I can't. You know my missions are classified."

Her disappointed look hurt worse than when Kakashi believed his lie. She nodded. "I was hoping you could- -shit! Watch out!"

Yamato and she sprung off their branch as Naruto flew at them from cover, abject glee printed in the maniacal grin on his face. Yamato tossed a smoke bomb to cover their escape and consequent position. They settled into hiding a few yards away as Naruto swiveled his head back and forth looking for them. Yamato did not see Kakashi or Sai, so he gestured to Sakura to take Naruto. She would distract him as Yamato looked for an opening to jump in and finish Naruto off. A whoosh of air as she leapt to attack was her indication of agreement.

Naruto dodged back, an orange and black blur, and Yamato watched, content with his decision to let Sakura handle it, as Naruto had to block, duck, and weave through a series of quick punches and kicks. Naruto struggled to keep up with Sakura's movement, losing significant ground. Yamato prepped an additional attack, but a soft hiss broke his concentration, or rather, he _heard _the soft hiss, and the headache he'd been ignoring hardened into a fist behind his eye.

To the side of him, within arm's length, curled around a medium-sized tree branch, was a white snake. For a split second, Yamato wasn't sure what he was seeing. Then the head swayed, forked tongue flicked out to test the air, and the snake glided forward a few feet. He froze.

Yamato's eye cavity throbbed in a manner that stole his breath. _Be still. Be nothing, be invisible, be stone._ So clearly he could track the muscles bunching and releasing under the smooth scales of the snake as it progressed along the tree branch. _Be stone._ A hot flash- -Yamato's stomach heaved, bile rose in a burning tide up his chest, throat; he squeezed shut his eyes, sickened by looking at the snake as sweat broke out under armpits and down his back, and knees gave out. Hands clutched at the rough tree bark, if he didn't, he'd fall to the ground.

Even the darkness behind his eyelids swooped around. _Be nothing; be stone._ Where was the snake? He had to know; he was terrified to know. He couldn't hear the hissing- -the pain clouded his senses. Cautiously, Yamato opened his eyes. A few moments of dizziness that he overcame. The branch was unoccupied. He looked for the slim white snake but it had disappeared. Okay. Calm down. Nothing's there. But he didn't believe himself.

In measured movements, Yamato pushed up to his feet and stood, using the tree trunk as a crutch. His whole body quaked and refused to steady. As he waited, he had time to swallow back the burning in his throat and to quantify the renewed intensity of the headache, which had doubled. It'd been a long time since he'd had such a severe reaction.

"It's not like you to be off your guard," said a familiar voice, too close to his ear for comfort.

Yamato hopped off the branch, narrowly avoiding Kakashi's attack, and dashed into foliage to try and shake Kakashi. Yamato needed some breathing space to calculate the fact that Kakashi had given warning (which Kakashi never gave) and to get his head in the damn game. Sakura's location and condition was also unknown as he'd lost contact with her during his…episode. And at least the surprise stopped the shaking.

A swish of leaves; Yamato turned to the side as a few shiruken thunked into the tree at his shoulder. From the branches over Yamato's head, Sai leapt down and swung around in a high-kick to Yamato's head. Yamato ducked, stepped backwards while blocking a few more punches and kicks, and sensed he'd been flanked. He feigned a dodge to the right; Sai fell for it, and Yamato managed to slam a foot into the other's solar plexus. Sai flew back, winded, and allowed Yamato to face Kakashi.

Off to the north, Yamato heard a _kathoom_…which meant Sakura had hit land and created a new crater. Was she still in combat with Naruto?

No time to consider. Kakashi came at him, kunai brandished, and Yamato snagged one of his own to counter the strikes with rapid, musical clinks. On a good day, Kakashi's movements were hard to follow; on a day like Yamato was having, it seemed damn near impossible to keep up. He felt so delayed in his reactions, as though the throbbing headache had congested the synapses.

As if reading Yamato's mind, Kakashi disengaged and dropped his shoulders. "You're dragging."

"I did try telling you that I shouldn't be involved today," Yamato snapped. "You insisted I came."

In retrospection, Yamato should not have showed his back to Sai. The second's worth of repartee with Kakashi cost him the thin margin of concentration necessary to avoid Sai's forearm across the back of his head. Stars exploded in his vision, and then darkness consumed everything.

Ino's flower scent permeated the floating nothingness, and his ears attuned to a woman's voice. Ino's? He didn't think so, but he couldn't think whose it was. Hm. At least the headache had diminished. A cool glaze tinged his brain. Shuffling, then there was more talking. Pressure on his eyes kept them from opening. Half-heartedly he used a hand to explore what was putting the pressure on his face. Slim fingers. Small hand and wrist. Ino? Had she come home?

"He's coming around. Everyone back up." The pressured darkness peeled away. Pink hair and green eyes came into his vision. Dammit. _Not _Ino. "Captain, how're you doing?"

"I'm…fine," he answered. And he was; at least, he felt better than he did. The world oriented- -he'd been laid out on the grass, so he sat upright with help from Sakura. "Thanks."

Sakura handed him his hatsuburi. "When Sai knocked you out, he thought you looked too pale. He came to get me in case there was something wrong. Why didn't you say you had a migraine?"

Yes, why hadn't he said anything? "I didn't think it was relevant."

"Next time," she said, standing and offering him her hand, "let me know. Migraines are a bitch to fight through."

He took her hand; she easily brought him to standing. He said, "I'll keep that in mind."

Kakashi stepped forward from a quiet conversation with Naruto and Sai. "We should call it a day, then. Our team needs all members at one-hundred percent. Besides, Yamato and I have some business to attend to." He focused his attention on Sakura. "Sakura, have a good day. Boys?" Naruto and Sai turned to look. "Don't kill each other."

Kakashi was definitely up to something, and really, Yamato didn't have the energy to fight, so he said, "Goodbye, everyone!"

They all bid him farewell, and afterwards, when Kakashi and he exited the training grounds, Yamato took the opportunity to ask Kakashi what business they needed to attend to.

Kakashi was on his left, and Yamato could tell he had on a self-satisfied smile. "Well, we need to visit Ino's apartment to look for clues."

What the hell. Abruptly, Yamato halted on the crest of a residential building. Kakashi overshot the roof, and hesitated, waiting for Yamato to follow, but when Yamato continued looking at Kakashi and not moving, Kakashi came back.

"What?" Kakashi asked.

"Why are you helping me?"

"You're an old friend."

Yamato frowned, not buying the easy explanation. "That's not a reason. What's your motivation? _Why_?"

"I suppose it has to do with Ino being in trouble." Kakashi sighed and glanced away then back. "She needs you more than I do, and you're the single person who can give her what she needs."

Yamato scrutinized Kakashi a moment before deciding he accepted Kakashi's answer. For the time being, at least. "All right. I see your point. Let's go."

He and Kakashi exchanged no more words on the way to Ino's apartment. The white-washed building looked the same as always, but Yamato felt a little endearment toward the domicile that housed Ino. Up the balconies they bounded until they landed on the one Yamato was most familiar with. The curtains had been drawn across the windows of the French doors, so Yamato jimmied the lock and entered through the gossamer cloth.

Shock cut his knees from under him.

Her apartment had been stripped bare. Not even the lemon/flower/perfume remained.

Kakashi's hand rested on Yamato's shoulder. "_Not_ what we were expecting."

Yamato heard Kakashi vaguely. He forced himself to his feet and strode around the corner, down the barren hall to her bedroom. Empty. Bathroom- -empty. The apartment reflected Yamato's feeling. Devoid. Abandoned. Sakura had thought she'd treated the migraine, but the pain billowed into his head, a pulsating, sickening current that spread pressure behind both his eyes and back to his neck. The suddenness of the pain brought spots to his vision, and weakly, he reached out to Kakashi for support.

"Kakashi," he said, gripping his friend's shoulder for his life, "talk to the neighbors. I'll track down the landlord. There should be an office."

"Hold on. You're swaying on your feet," Kakashi said. "Take a minute to collect yourself."

Ignoring Kakashi, Yamato staggered to the doorway and through the hall. His sense of urgency drove him- -two months had slipped through his fingers already and Ino…he dared not think of it. When he got out on the balcony, the height worsened his dizziness and nausea, enough so that he leaned heavily over the railing calculating his odds of survival if he flipped over the side and let gravity do the rest. But Kakashi came up behind him, looped one of Yamato's arms over his shoulder, and together they hopped to the ground.

Kakashi stood Yamato up straight. "You think you can manage?" Yamato stared at Kakashi, who shrugged and said, "Okay, fine. I'll talk to the neighbors."

Though the migraine depleted his energy and strength, Yamato was able to use his own two legs to carry him to the Rental Office located towards the back of the building, at an end of a hallway, with minimal staggering. He inhaled-exhaled in order to steel himself into faking pleasantries. The Rental Office's door was glass, labeled with valuable information, and opened into a waiting area with a prim secretary, who smiled.

"Hello. Can I help you?" she said to Yamato. A cursory glance at her nameplate told him her name was Sato Natsuko, and she was a young twenty, with shortened black hair and blue eyes lined with black and lashes laden with mascara.

Yamato leaned on the high counter and returned her smile. "Yes. I was hoping to speak to the leasing associate, Ms. Furubashi?" Leasing associate? Good God. If it hadn't been on the door, he wouldn't have believed it.

Natsuko tucked her hair behind her ear. "Is this concerning an apartment with us?"

"Ah, it's more to do with a tenant," he replied.

"Oh," her face fell, "all information regarding tenants is confidential."

Shit. _Think._ "Does that include lease termination?"

Natsuko brightened. "That I can give, and you do not need to visit Ms. Furubashi. She's out for lunch, anyway." She spun her chair to face a set of black file cabinets behind her. "Who is the tenant?"

"Yamanaka Ino."

Natsuko looked sharply at him. "What did you say your name was?"

"It's Yamato," he replied. "Why?"

Her features softened, cleared, and he noticed her eyes taking in his face, actually _seeing _him for the first time since he arrived. "You're him, aren't you." Her voice had an intimate, knowing tone that shot nerves down Yamato's spine.

"Excuse me?"

"Ino always talked about you. She told me to hold something for you," she said, opening a drawer under her desk. "In case you showed up asking about her."

Ino, Ino, how you always predict me, Yamato thought as Natsuko withdrew an ordinary envelope from the back of that drawer and handed it to him. When he opened it, a photograph, the snapshot kind, and a small key to a storage locker was all that the envelope contained. The snapshot was of a very large scroll. He flipped the photo over and Ino had written him a note.

_I know you hate it when I do this, but would you keep an eye on my stuff, please? The key's to a storage locker place right around the corner. Thanks!_ Her unique signature ended her message.

"Is it true, then?" Natsuko asked, after he'd replaced the photo and key into the envelope.

"Is what true?"

Natsuko glanced around, nervously, and hunched over the counter to whisper. "That Ino's pregnant? She didn't say anything to me about it, so I wondered."

His mouth went very, very dry, and the world shrank away. "And who said she was pregnant?"

"Well, you're not the first one to come looking for Ino. Another man was in here, a while back, but I can't remember his name. He hit on me," she said and her sneer of disgust gave him a good idea of who this man was, "and he chewed on this toothpick the entire time."

"Shinurai Genma," _who is going to _die_,_ Yamato added silently. A low roar of anger bellowed through his veins, overtaking the clawing of the migraine.

"Yes! That's the name," she said. Her eyes widened. "Do you know him?"

"We have…mutual acquaintances. I can assure you, Ino being pregnant is a rumor," he added. He hated himself for lying to this woman, but necessity called for it. Genma blabbing his mouth would fucking compromise Ino's mission. Unacceptable. "If you hear anyone repeating it, tell them it's not true."

"Oh, okay, then. It's a shame, really," Natsuko said, shrugging and sitting down. "Ino's so beautiful, I know she'll have beautiful children."

"Well, thank you for your help," Yamato said. He edged to the door. "I have to be going."

Natsuko smiled. "You're welcome. Have a nice day."

After exiting the office, Yamato went into the open area of the building and saw Kakashi sitting in a chair with his nose in _Icha Icha Paradise 2._ Kakashi noticed him, and closing and tucking away the book, stood to join him in walking across the lobby to the exit. Yamato's heart was beating fast in his chest, in anticipation of getting his hands on Ino's possessions and in compressed rage with Genma's big mouth. He'd deal with that now, as it was more important.

Kakashi tapped his elbow. "What'd you find out?"

"She sealed all her things into a scroll and left a note with the secretary, who she became friends with." Yamato leapt from the street to a veranda to the rooftops, angling toward Genma's building. "We'll pick up her scroll afterwards."

"And where're we going?"

Yamato clenched his jaw to dampen the growing fury. "To deliver a special message to Shinurai."

* * *

**A/N:** And, I wonder, what would that special message be? Next week, Yamato continues on his quest to protect Ino's secret in _Fear Factor,_ out to you on Mar. 17th. See you then!


	27. Fear Factor

**A/N:** Welcome back once more, dear readers and lurkers, to another chapter. Please, enjoy!

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**Chapter Twenty-seven: Fear Factor**

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Genma was not in his flat and hadn't been for a couple days based on the pile of mail on the floor under the mail slot. Fueled by a renewed sense of purpose, the migraine a minor annoyance under his boiling fury, Yamato made tracks to Anko's after Kakashi indicated he knew where she lived. They stopped short of the low, two-story brick condominium insulated from the street with trees and green lawn, and the sounds of population drifted up to them from the market.

"Hers is the last on the right," Kakashi said, pointing. "About this special message of yours…"

"Don't worry about it. I'll cover the back. Let's go." But before Yamato could leap to the next roof over, Kakashi grabbed under his arm. Huffing, Yamato shook off his hand. They didn't have _time _for this. "What?"

The grey eye was hooded. "Is this going to cause me to take you to Lady Hokage for disciplinary action?"

"No."

"Tenzou, if your special message is an ass-kicking, I don't recommend it."

"Recommendation noted." He didn't even care. "And, Kakashi, at this point, you're either with me or in my way." Yamato met Kakashi's gaze with one of his own that conveyed aggressive determination. "So are you in my way?"

Kakashi let out a resigned sigh before saying, "I'm with you."

"Then take the front."

He and Kakashi separated, and Yamato moved to a position that overlooked the condo's back, which had a door that let out to a slim alleyway, windows, and roof. There was a hide-spot in the form of a rooftop sign on the building across the alleyway that gave him an ample view. Then he waited. About two minutes later, he saw a window slide open and Shinurai Genma boost out and sprint across the rooftops. Yamato followed at a distance, biding his time. After a while of dodging about, Genma, as cocky and arrogant as usual, hopped from the roofs into a park where he slowed to a walk.

Yamato wove his chakra into his most-used Earth technique, which melted him into the silent, enclosing ground so that he was able to slip ahead of Genma undetected and wait in ambush for him to tread the surface overhead. When Genma's foot stepped on the sweet spot, Yamato struck. He charged from the earth and cracked his fist on Genma's jaw, sending him flying backwards into a tree trunk. Even before Genma slammed against the trunk, Yamato had formed the seals to bind Genma's arms, legs, and torso with wooden beams, pinning him unceremoniously to the grass. A matter of a couple seconds had passed since Yamato's attack.

"_Goddammit!_" Genma shouted as he writhed in an attempt to gain freedom. "_Not cool!_"

Yamato stepped over and gazed at Genma on the ground. Genma's jaw had already swollen to the size of a grapefruit, and Yamato regretted the lack of blood dribbling from Genma's lip. So Yamato leaned over and punched Genma again, and this time, his nose broke with a sickly crunch and gushed out dark red blood. Better. The anger fed a certain coldness that existed inside Yamato, and the coldness assessed Genma's mental state for a moment and found it not hysterical enough.

"What the _fuck_, man!" Genma said. Pain tinged his words. "Have you lost your shit?"

Yamato dispassionately watched Genma's futile struggle. The wooden beams that held in place four tails of the Nine-Tails Fox held Genma quite well. Genma uttered a string of creative expletives, but gargled when Yamato settled a foot onto his throat and pressed down.

Over Genma's splutters and wheezing, Yamato said, "The one reason you're alive and not dead is because you're more useful alive." He eased up on the foot. "Don't make me change my mind."

"Dude. You've fucking lost it! You can't just…your threat, _hah!_" Genma coughed, blood running into his mouth. "Your threat is worthless. You won't kill a fellow Leaf in cold blood. Fucking _weak_."

"You don't sound too sure of yourself, Shinurai." Yamato crouched to gaze evenly in Genma's frantic eyes. "I've done far worse for far less. And you know you'd deserve it."

Genma croaked. "_What_?"

"Remind me. What's the punishment for leaking classified intelligence?" Deep satisfaction as all Genma's color drained. When Genma said nothing, realizing his delicate position, Yamato continued, "I believe you'd be considered a traitor to be executed on sight. Do you know the intel you leaked? I'll give you a hint." Yamato juiced chakra into the technique to tighten the wood around Genma, who grunted and panted. "It's about Ino."

"That shit about her being pregnant? That's not…" He gasped for air when Yamato compressed the bindings further. "How's that…how's that intel? _Shitfuckow!_ I-I don't…understand!"

"That's not your concern. Your concern is what I'll do if you compromise Ino's mission," Yamato replied.

"Fuck, man. I-I'm sorry. I'm…uhn…_I'm sorry!_" More struggling, more coughing. "Wh-wh-what do you want me to do?"

Yamato held out a hand and lowered it to Genma's face. Genma flinched, grunted, but Yamato merely tapped a finger to Genma's Leaf symbol and withdrew his hand. "What do you think?"

"I…I should track down anyone I told," Genma replied promptly, "and…oh, God, tell them I was wrong. Right? Ah, fuck, _right?_"

Yamato paused to study the rolling sweat beads on the side of Genma's grey face before replying. "Yes. That's right." He placed a firm hand on Genma's throat and released the incapacitating Wood Release technique. "And Shinurai," Yamato added, squeezing the vulnerable throat enough to feel Genma's pulse hammer, "I don't have to warn you what will happen if you speak of her again."

Genma nodded his understanding and when Yamato let go, he scrambled backwards on his ass before tearing away through the trees. Yamato felt satisfied that Genma would no longer be a security risk. Then, a piercing pain lanced through Yamato's brain, enough so that he hissed through his teeth and planted a hand on the ground. No sooner had the pain burst when movement in the corner of his eye brought his attention to a sleek white body slithering along through the grass towards him. Son of a bitch.

He tried to get out of the snake's path, but his muscles had ceased to listen to the screaming directions his mind gave, had atrophied at the worst possible moment. Closer, closer, and the snake glided within six feet of him. _Be nothing. Be stone, be stone, be stone, stone, stone…_

The yellow eyes with purple markings transfixed him; his stomach went sour and in response he felt too hot and sweat trickled down his back. Closer by another couple of feet. The embodiment of terror moved casually, as if knowing its power to instill fear. _Be stone_. _Stone does not fear or shake or breathe. Stone is invisible and still. Be stone._

Was it going to rope around his arm, ease across his shoulders (the dry underbelly plucking at skin) to encircle his neck, while the tongue tickled as it tested the air for fear or movement? Yes. Yes, it would. Thirty-six shook too badly; the snake would strike him, twin fangs piercing skin, injecting lethal poison into the carotid artery leading straight to the brain, he'd be paralyzed and brain-dead within seconds. He already felt suffocated. Closer and it was within arm's reach. Dizzy, detached, he could see the slightly upraised ridges over its eyes. _Be still. Be nothing, be invisible, be-_

A hand slapped between Thirty-six's shoulder blades. He jumped out of his skin, the new pain snapping his attention to Kakashi standing over him, and when paranoia sang through him, he glanced back to the spot where he'd seen the snake, sure it had already reared its head to bite the hand on the ground. But the snake had disappeared. Relief was so great and gushing, he had to keep his head ducked to mask his deep breathing. His heart beat so hard he felt it in his back and throat.

"Tenzou. Tenzou, Tenzou, I'm here," Kakashi said. Yamato tried to control the trembling, but it was lodged so deep in him that there was no possible way to get at it. Kakashi helped him stand on watery legs, supporting him. "You've put too much pressure on yourself. There's some shade over there. Think you can make it?"

Yamato nodded, too drained to speak, and the migraine roaring in his mind-space enhanced the sunlight into blinding starkness. Oh, God. His stomach pitched and yarned with nausea, and at any moment, he'd puke. He had to squint or close his eyes as Kakashi guided him into shade. When Kakashi dipped to lower him to the ground, Yamato slipped off Kakashi's shoulder and landed hard in the cold grass. He didn't care, and swallowed back the taste of bile.

"Damn," Kakashi muttered. Yamato heard zipping, his body shifted, but not of his own volition. Cloth rustled, a crackling, his head lifted and lowered onto bumpy, semi-softness. He felt cooler, and more so when the hatsuburi was removed. His brain concentrated on the roiling anguish. Then something pressed between his lips. "Swallow these."

Pills. They would stick in his dry throat, and anyway, his stomach protested angrily, but his mouth accepted the bitter offering. Cool liquid passed through his lips and he reflexively swallowed back everything. He didn't think at first his stomach would like the new arrivals, and he tensed in anticipation of regurgitation. A few minutes of touch and go. Nothing happened as his stomach settled somewhat.

He eased into relaxation, listening to the rustle of leaves in the breeze and the far-off shouts and calls of children in play. The sickening throb in his head diminished enough that he relaxed completely and even as he understood he'd fallen asleep, he didn't care enough to stir. He'd sleep an hour and get moving.

"Tenzou, sir? Tenzou, sir, wake up," a gravelly voice said into his ear. Panting. Moist, hot breath. Then, "Wake up, Tenzou, sir."

Yamato forced his eyes open. Oh. Evening had shrouded him, and sitting beside his head was Kakashi's summoned pug, Pakkun. This was not the first time Pakkun had been left to watch over him, and in fact, the occurrence was fairly normal. Yamato sighed, having thought he'd slept for an hour, and here, he'd slept the whole day through. Irritation stemmed from more time wasted that he didn't have.

"Kakashi," he said. Crud clogged his throat. "Where is he?"

"He said to meet him at your place. And that I was to make sure you went there first," Pakkun said. "Also, to ask you how you're feeling. How're you feeling, Tenzou, sir?"

"I've been better," he answered, sitting up. Kakashi had rested Yamato's head on his flak jacket, so Yamato pulled it on and as he zipped it, a thought nagged him. A dull sheen of pain clouded his mind, leftover remnants of the migraine, and the nagging thought fluttered off. "Let's get going. I have a feeling Kakashi has something important to tell me."

"That's probably true."

He and Pakkun traversed the darkened village roofs and trees to Yamato's house. Yellow light peeked at them from between the maples and when Yamato opened the front door, Kakashi's head popped up from his spot on the couch; the mask was removed, so Yamato was treated to Kakashi's sincere smile. Then Yamato noticed all the extra debris strewn in the clean space of his house- -and he immediately knew it was Ino's. He'd forgotten about the storage locker. Kakashi must've unsealed all of her possessions from the scroll, and every open surface had been cluttered with Ino-stuff. And in the open space above the mantel, a large map hung on the wood panels, and an excessive amount of green and purple pinheads spread across the field of the Five Nation's boundaries and towns.

"Welcome home, Tenzou," Kakashi said. He held aloft a take-out container staked with chop-sticks. Noodles escaped the white cardboard confines, dangling limply. "Hungry?"

Pakkun, from beside him, said, "Iffen you don't mind, I'll be heading home." A poof and Pakkun was gone.

Dazed out of speech, Yamato crossed the floor, high-stepping over plates, books, a vase or two, and a painting to the couch where he flopped down. He accepted Kakashi's carton of half-eaten noodles, checked to see they were plain, and ate. Kakashi had several pictures of Ino spread out in front of him- -what looked like family and personal vacations- -and Yamato saw he'd been to the library on account of the atlas and the several encyclopedias and travel guides stacked on the coffee table.

Kakashi's finger ran down a list in one of the books, one hand plucked several purple-headed pins from a dish beside green-headed ones, and he stood and wove through the confusion of Ino's life to the map. Yamato ate a few more bites of the noodles as Kakashi searched for, and found, the places he was looking for and pushed a separate pin into five different points.

Yamato squinted at the map. "If purple is Ino, green is…?"

"You," Kakashi answered, shuffling backwards a couple steps. "I don't think I really understood how many different places you've been to until I marked them all on a map."

"At least it rules out a few hundred. How'd you know where I've been?"

Kakashi faced him. "I talked Shizune into letting me see your and Ino's declassified files. I think the majority of your missions are up here with the exception of a select few."

"We're agreed that these are places Ino would avoid, correct?"

"Well," Kakashi said, "we know Ino is clever, so she wouldn't make it easy on anyone actively trying to find her. _These_ places would make it easy for others to find her. So to speak. If she's being used to bait Orochimaru and Kabuto, she'd have to stay in Fire country. She wouldn't go abroad. Leaf ANBU have safehouses across the nation, but I haven't marked them yet as I don't have the files for it."

"She wouldn't use them anyway, but you're right, we have to rule out those places," concluded Yamato. He set aside the noodles and standing, moved beside Kakashi to look at the map. "Most of our missions were to the west, northwest, north, northeast, and far east of Konoha. Look at how many open places are south, southwest and southeast." Places which were sunny and airy with the clime for flowers. Places that were removed from Konoha but not too far out of range.

"Those are all vacation spots. You think she'd risk integrating into a place with a high tourist population?"

Yamato didn't know. "It's a fifty-fifty chance. She might think she could move in and out of a large population without being seen," _but she's pregnant and could she be plain enough to pull it off_? he added silently, but continued, "but on the other hand, she may not want to risk it and choose somewhere more isolated."

"Hm." Kakashi crossed his arms in front of his chest. "We must be missing something. For you, she'd leave another clue to narrow it down further."

The pregnancy. His heart skipped a beat. _That _was another clue to narrow down the options. Yamato knew about pregnancy in an abstract way, but he knew enough that he understood for the health and safety of the baby and mother, prenatal appointments and checkups were necessary. And the birth, too, would have to be carefully planned and monitored. Ino wasn't stupid enough to try and wing it by herself. A hospital would be essential. But…that would leave Ino open to being potentially recognized. Unless, pregnant kunoichi could use transformation jutsu and sustain the disguise? He wasn't sure, and he realized his knowledge of pregnancy gaped open with holes.

"What do you think?" Kakashi asked.

"My brain hurts." Which was true. Whatever pills Kakashi had given him tamed the migraine, but Yamato could feel lurking pain. He needed more rest. "We should pick up this tomorrow."

"Can't. When I went to talk to Shizune, Lady Hokage called Team 7 in for a mission. It'll take two days, tops." Kakashi smirked and tousled Yamato's hair. "You'll have to figure out some of this on your own."

At least Kakashi's mission would give Yamato time to research pregnancy, plus hospital locations. Perfect. Yamato nodded and turned an exasperated eye on the mess in his house. "Did you go through _all _Ino's things?"

"I tend to be thorough." Kakashi gestured. "Help me reseal everything. Then make sure you secure the scroll."

"Sure."

Another several hours were used to reseal all Ino's possessions back into the scroll. Bigger items, like her couch, chairs, and a variety of other furniture were more difficult to seal, but they managed to jockey the large pieces into position. After that, Kakashi bid Yamato a goodnight, and left. It was one o'clock in the morning. The Konoha Library opened in six hours. Yamato secured the scroll and the map with a simple combination of Wood Release and an Earth-style technique paired with an ANBU-level concealment jutsu, and afterward, hauled his tired ass upstairs to bed.

He crashed face-first into the pillows.

The dream started almost as soon as he shut his eyes. Ino sat across from him in a field of tall grass- -he recognized the area from the ANBU training grounds. Her hair was up in the high ponytail, and she wore the long sleeves, slacks, and flak jacket of every other Leaf shinobi. Her eyes were on him, sapphire blue, and she had her head tilted, as though waiting for him, but he'd forgotten whatever it was that he'd been in the middle of because she looked real and beautiful and close and so, so tangible.

She laughed. "Did you forget what you were saying?"

"I did." He didn't stop from reaching out and discovering she was within arm's reach enough that he could and did hook a hand on her nape. Her hair was soft, thick, and trapped under his hand. "I hope you don't mind."

"I should start forcing ginseng on you," she said, and her smile made him _believe_, "if you continue to lose track of your thoughts."

He guided her closer, and she came on hands and knees to straddle his lap. "Hm-hm."

When was the last time he'd been skin-close to her? He couldn't remember; ginseng, indeed. Her body pushed into his, her arms circled his neck, and her mouth hovered near his, teasing, if her smirk was any indication. When her lips met his, the kiss was tender, light, slow enough to send delicious tingles along his spine. Fire bellowed up from forgotten hearths, pulsing with golden light, and her tongue sought and found his, stoking the flame, the heat. He lost his breath inside the flying embers, at the curve of her hip and back under his needy hands, and her compliance to his oral demands.

A rustle, a hiss maybe, tore the moment asunder.

Ino snapped back and her eyes flitted around points over his shoulder. "What was that?"

"Ino." Cruel bands squeezed his chest. _Be still. Be nothing…_ "Ino, you have to get out of here."

She struggled out of his embrace as her eyes continued scanning wildly. Her face had blanched. "Get up. We can go together."

"No. No, we can't," he said and a hiss sizzled through the quiet evening sounds. _Be nothing, be stone, be stone. _His lungs failed to bring oxygen into his body. He would slow her down. "Run, love, run as fast as you can."

She grabbed his arm, attempting to yank him up. "Will you _get up_?"

"I…can't," he said around the thick pulse in his throat, "I have to stay here. To…keep it from going after _you_. Run. _Run._" _Stone did not run. Stone did not fear or breathe or shake. Be stone._

"You're being stupid! Get _up!_" Ino focused her eyes on his arm in her hands. "We stand a better chance if we-"

Her moment of inattentiveness was a split-second, and that's all it took. From the grass lunged the long white streak of a snake and before Ino could finish her sentence, she was wheezing, collapsed in a limp heap in front of him. Her eyes were on his, but he couldn't see their color in the failing light. In her neck, two puncture wounds the diameter of a needle, leaked thin streams of blood. He gathered her into his arms to cradle her head on his shoulder. She was as malleable as a doll. Her breathing slowed, became shallow. He couldn't think of language but he remembered to count.

Inhale, exhale. One. Inhale…exhale. Two. Inhale…exhale. Three. And then all air expelled from her lungs in a low rattle. Ino, his beautiful, funny, smart, presumptuous Ino, his love, his sky, his sun, died.

A fierce agony exploded everywhere inside him at once that woke him, and he didn't know how he got into the bathroom and over the toilet bowl before violently retching, but he did. He barely had time to breathe before his insides contracted and forced him into dry heaving bile. Again. And again. And again.

One time he'd been sick with the stomach flu and hadn't been able to leave the bathroom for twelve hours. After being sick for that long, his ribcage and diaphragm had ached and jumped at the mere mention of food. In this instance, a few minutes passed and all his muscles and organs were as sore and skittish as though he'd been reliving that stomach flu.

The longest minutes of his life, for sure. Finally, his body seemed to get that there was nothing to vomit and calmed, though he shook like a leaf. Another few minutes, and his torso unlocked from the clenched state it assumed during the sickness. He drew up his knees to rest his head on them. Breathed freely. The medication Kakashi had given him with had worn off, and the migraine unleashed hellish throbbing. He couldn't stop shaking.

Slowly he got to his feet. Dizziness, but the constant nausea didn't worsen. He reached into the shower, hit the knobs, and shed his clothes. First there was a large smear of grey…_something_ on his stomach and side. It didn't hurt when he picked at it, and the texture was smooth and solid. Stone-like. There were more large spots of it on his knees and ankles, and when he turned in the mirror and craned his neck, a patch spanned his left shoulder blade.

Worse things had happened. Worse things _would_ happen if he didn't get to Ino in time. Staunchly ignoring the new skin tone and consistency, he showered, dressed, and checked the time.

It was 2:30 am.

* * *

**A/N:** Lots about Yamato's psyche here; I hope it wasn't too confusing for any of you. I am sorry to say that this is one of the few chapters left before the completion of "Behind the Cat's Mask"! Only five left to go. On a lighter note, I'll hopefully see all of you on Mar. 24th for _Question and Answer_. Until then!


	28. Question and Answer

**A/N:** Welcome again, dear readers and lurkers. I hope you've so far enjoyed the story and the varioius twists and turns. Prepare for a few more before the end! Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-eight: Question and Answer**

* * *

To be productive, and to busy his restless mind, Yamato decided to draft a list of questions he had of kunoichi pregnancy. His most prevalent concern, aside from where Ino chose to integrate, was the complications she could have during the birth. The bounty hunters were a high threat level, but those were avoidable if she was careful and smart. Complications may not be avoidable.

In a half-hour, the library would open, and he decided to leave the house. His stomach and diaphragm twinged and ached, and the pain from the migraine lapped like a tide behind his eyes. Food was still a thought that rolled nausea through him, so he avoided thinking of breakfast. But otherwise, he felt alert and capable, and as long as whatever he did wasn't physically strenuous, he convinced himself he would be fine.

He donned and zipped his flak jacket then left and arrived at the library without issue. The Konoha Library was housed in the cliff that bore the faces of the five Hokages of Konoha, and when he got there, a mousy cryptographer (as the Cryptanalysis Squad's offices were located within the levels of the library) with strange lenses had finished unlocking the doors. She stepped aside with a cheerful 'Good morning!' to allow him to enter, and Yamato immediately headed to the Medical Texts section on the second floor.

The "Pregnancy and Birthing" shelves were full, so he grabbed several books that focused on kunoichi pregnancies. Then he secluded himself to answer his questions. He absorbed the information, the statistics, the pictures, the descriptions. So totally consumed with reading, memorizing, and understanding that before he knew it, the hours had passed and the library was closing. He'd known so little about the process, but his prior assessment that Ino would need a hospital or midwife was correct. Hopefully, he'd find a comprehensive list of hospitals and midwives in Fire country at the Konoha Hospital and use that information to pinpoint Ino's location.

At the check-out counter- -as he'd wanted to read six or seven more books- -was the same woman who'd unlocked the front door. She adjusted her glasses as she examined his books, her dirty blonde hair hanging over her shoulders without the grace he was used to seeing in Ino's hair. Her mouth was a friendly curve as she noted the titles in the library's ledger.

"Are you a medic?" she asked. "Or is this personal reading?"

Yamato knew she was trying to be engaging, but he didn't appreciate it. "Neither."

Her smile faded somewhat as she stacked the books aside. "Did you want these in a scroll?" To entice him, she reached under the counter and withdrew a prepared scroll. "It'll only take a second."

Get on with it. "Sure."

She did her job without further attempts at conversation, and relieved, he accepted the scroll and wished her a good evening. His next stop, while he was out, was the hospital, where he managed to convince the charge nurse to disclose a copied list of hospitals and clinics across Fire country. Midwives, he was told, were private practice and so a list of registered midwives would take a few days to compile. He said he'd come back at the end of the week.

At home, he eased into his armchair and unsealed the stack of books on the coffee table. He'd ignored his stomach and head the entire day, determinedly fixating his concentration on learning as much as possible, and thought he should eat _something_, more to derive sustenance than out of habit. Tea and saltine crackers were what he found in his kitchen.

As he munched, he cracked open another book to study. _You and Your Pregnant Kunoichi_ was geared toward husbands and partners of expecting kunoichi. He was drawn into the narrative tone of the book with the helpful tidbits and factoids in the margins, and so when a hand spread across the text- -nails painted a vivid hot pink- -and tipped back the book, he glanced up, startled.

"You have time," Ino said. Her hair was streaming over her bare shoulders and arms. She was glorious with beauty. "You'll ruin your eyes if you don't take a break."

Yamato blinked, unable to wrap his head around Ino standing in front of him, heavy with her pregnancy. Her belly was round with the six months of a child's life inside her, accentuated by the indigo top and white skirt she wore. He breathed, felt the blood draining from his face, even though his heart thudded. Instinctively, he knew she was in danger, but the words stuck in his throat when she kissed him and stroked fingertips under his jaw. She'd taken the book from him during his stupor, and now eased herself into his lap, swinging her legs over the armrest of the chair and nuzzling her face into his neck.

She sighed. "Much better."

Slowly he closed his arms around her, since she'd surely be safe inside the protective circle of them, and measured the weight of her, the living heat her skin generated, the light flower aroma from her hair. Her breath on his neck. Real. Tangible. Believable. Had he imagined her absence? Or had he dreamed her to life? No, no. _This_ was a dream, _not real,_ and she was in mortal peril.

"Ino…" he began, and when she pinned him with her omnipotent eyes he couldn't remember how to continue. "I…"

She smiled, rubbed a hand on the crest of her stomach absently; a quick gasp. "He's kicking!"

Then she grabbed his hand and moved it over the expanse of womb, and a tiny foot struck his palm. Some powerful emotion coiled in his chest, an emotion he skirted around because he recognized the potential it had for his destruction. The baby kicked a second time, _alive_, and Yamato's life recalibrated in a single instant.

The instant shattered when his land-sensors bolted data through him- -something huge and something brimming with chakra had crossed over the land. Before he finished the sharp intake of breath, the house he'd molded and built with his own body burst apart at the seams as a huge white rope of muscle and scales crushed through the wall and ceiling in a deafening crash.

Part of the roof caved in and Ino, clever, clever, Ino, somehow hooked her arm through his and rolled with him out from under the falling roof. He watched as the armchair disappeared under the detritus of wood and shingle and a mushroom cloud of dust. Ino squirmed from under his weight.

"Let's _go_!" she said, struggling to her feet. He didn't hear her. "Move!"

His attention was riveted to the enormous snake towering over them, an enlargement of the smaller snakes (oh, God, he'd forgotten that big nasty one that made all the others look friendly) that had haunted him, and poised with slit eyes intent on Ino. The entire house around them had collapsed under the gentle loops of white snake body that slithered over and under itself. _Be stone. Be stone, stone, stone…_but nothing would ease Yamato's violent shaking. Pain dug into his brain so viciously color receded from his vision, and he collapsed in a fear-shaken heap.

Ino knelt beside him. She was calm, and her tug was strong. "C'mon. We can make a run for it. Get on your feet."

Over her shoulder as she hauled him up, Yamato watched in silent, cold horror, the snake's jaw unhinge to reveal a pink mouth and flickering tongue and fangs that oozed poison. _Be nothing, be invisible. Be stone._ The stories-high coils rustled in an ever-shifting pattern of bunched and contracted muscles, closing in on them. Trapping them. There was nowhere to go. There was _never _anywhere to run.

The giant snake hissed a laugh, and Yamato's skin crawled. It said, "Any last words?"

Ino's arm tightened around his waist. _Be stone_- -the pain was so intense in his head he couldn't breathe, could barely see and stand- -and his lips and tongue formed words. "Not her. Please. _Please, _not her."

"Hmm, how precious," the snake (or was it Orochimaru?) said, "but you don't get the choice."

As quick as a lightning strike, a tail whipped and snatched Ino out from beside him. She shrieked, flailed, as the thick muscles constricted her, the rough scraping of slithering coils upon coils upon coils as the snake raised Ino high off the ground. He couldn't think through the thunderclap pain behind his eyes, didn't know how to move. _Be stone, stone does not fear, stone does not shake, stone does not breathe._ Ino fought, but the pregnancy had stymied her chakra production, and he knew she could not generate enough power to defend herself.

And, impotent, he saw the snake cram Ino into its wide, slack-jawed mouth. He felt the snap of jaws as though it was _him_ in its mouth, not precious Ino, and as the muscles expanded and pushed her through the throat, agony flashed inside him, hot, nerve-eating and all consuming, and he keeled over _be stone be stone be stone be stone_ and could see no end, no relief, an eternity of the searing heart-wound spread out in every direction. His punishment. His hell.

When his lungs forced him into breathing as an automatic reflex, he gasped a deep, wheezing sound that brought him, cowering and curled, back to his living room floor. His heart palpitated at a pace that refused to decrease; sweat had soaked his clothes through; and the acuteness of the pain garbled his stomach into rebellion. Weakly he lifted his head, got it turned, and retched- -the lingering soreness exacerbated the sharp contraction of muscles- -until he couldn't breathe anymore.

He didn't move. How much time passed, he didn't know, didn't care. His heart rate lowered and his trembling desisted, but the migraine was a physical entity inside his skull, pulsing like some bulbous, living sack. He struggled to sit up. A rigidness to his muscles concerned him, so he bunched up his shirt to look.

The grey stone-like coating had spread. Where once it had been contained to a hand-sized spot, the grey had tripled in size, reaching from his lower ribs to his hip and almost to his navel. When Yamato touched it, he could feel slight indentations, as if his body was becoming a marble statue. A new patch the size of a fist had formed in the middle of his chest over his heart.

Logically, he should visit a doctor. Get this shit checked out. But how long would he be kept under observation? How many tests would be administered, and how long would the results take to come back? Ino did not have that time for him to waste. She needed him _now,_ and he was pissed that he'd fallen asleep and then had been unable to stir for a long period of time. Motivated, Yamato staggered upright, cleaned up the mess then brought the map up from its hiding place and began meticulously pinpointing the locations of the hospitals.

Time became meaningless. Vaguely Yamato saw the nighttime dark outside his windows, and then redoubled his concentration on the books. His state of existence was defined by the number of words he read, the migraine clamoring for attention, and staunchly ignored exhaustion. He could not slow, didn't have time for trivial aches and pains, didn't want to use up precious brain capacity thinking about it.

He got a nasty shock when Kakashi tripped his land-sensors. Was he early? Yamato didn't know and scrambled to shove the pregnancy literature under the couch and hide the map. He may be suffering from a debilitating headache, but he wasn't stupid. Ino's pregnancy had to remain secret at any cost. He glanced around for anything he might've missed, but the coffee table was clear and no book corners peeked from under the couch. _Taptap._ Two light footfalls on the back porch.

"Yo, Tenzou!" Kakashi greeted as he slid open the doors. He came into the living room and sat on the end of the couch closest to Yamato. "Miss me?"

Yamato smiled, felt how stiff and fake it was, and nodded. "How was the mission?"

"Good. No one died."

"I'm happy to hear that," Yamato replied and then addressed the inevitable. "I haven't made much progress on locating Ino." _Liar! Liar!_

"Oh. That's a shame." Kakashi paused. "Did you think of talking to Inoichi?"

"No. Absolutely not."

He'd rejected the idea too fast, and Kakashi's eye told him so. "Why?"

_Because I slept with his daughter and she's pregnant and missing and if Inoichi sees me, I'm dead and I deserve to be. Duh._ "We didn't part on friendly terms the last time we spoke, and I don't want to induce him to kill me."

"I can't believe you're afraid of him," Kakashi said. "He's not as bad a villain as you think he is."

Keeping up the art of conversation with Kakashi was draining Yamato's stamina to fake health and sound reason. Even sitting still, he had to briefly close his eyes when the room distorted. The migraine thumped right along. Would it ever end? If he was going to figure out Ino, he'd need medication. But he couldn't go to a doctor because of his skin condition, and he couldn't ask Kakashi or Sakura. Their concern would lead them to be curious and ask uncomfortable questions.

"Tenzou?" Kakashi had leaned over to him. "You spaced out there for a minute."

"Sorry."

"Did you hear what I said?"

Yamato concentrated on his composure and took a shot in the dark. "Was it that you wanted me to visit Inoichi?"

"Yes. He's your best chance at a clue," said Kakashi. "You don't have anything to lose."

Kakashi always made everything sound so easy. Yamato sighed. "I don't want to. You go."

"Fine. Then will you at least come with me to speak to Sakura? She and Naruto are working on genjutsu together, and I said I'd assist them with the Sharingan. You don't have to participate," he added when Yamato drew in a breath. "You could single Sakura out and talk to her about Ino. Maybe she'll have some information from Ino for you."

That sounded so reasonable, but at the same time, leaving his house seemed like so much effort. He had two or three books left to read, he was finding movement more difficult, and he wanted to run head-first into a brick wall to end the misery of his migraine. But precious, beautiful Ino needed him. Sakura would be a good source of information. That, and he didn't feel like he had the strength to continue speaking with Kakashi.

"Okay." He gestured with his hand. "After you."

Kakashi stood, and Yamato used the time Kakashi's back was turned to hoist himself to his feet. Not as graceful as he liked, but he managed it. The floor tipped; he controlled it, set his jaw against the clanging in his ears and the throbbing behind his eyes, and followed Kakashi to the doors.

Kakashi stopped, looked at him. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Yamato hesitated a moment, but couldn't think of what Kakashi meant. "What?"

"Nothing," was the quiet answer, "it's not important."

Yamato didn't have the energy to pry. Together, he and Kakashi crossed Konoha using the usual roof-and-tree route, and Yamato deliberately kept his pace slow, measuring each leap and bound before charging his soles with chakra. If Kakashi had asked, Yamato would say he'd been more exhausted from the mission than he thought, problem solved. Kakashi didn't ask, didn't even speak. When they landed in the middle of a clearing in the training grounds, and Yamato had yet to see or hear Naruto or Sakura, he became suspicious.

"Kakashi," Yamato said as his gut screamed an alarm, "where're Sakura and Naruto?"

He should've listened. He should've listened to his gut, but he was with Kakashi, his oldest friend, his closest lover, someone he trusted with every molecule of his body and so Yamato glanced to the side and was hit with a fully activated Sharingan. The flash of red lingered in his vision, but was forgotten as soon as he comprehended the man-creature in front of him.

"Hello, dear Thirty-six," said Orochimaru, forked tongue hanging loose, skin as milky white as ever, eyes hard in contempt and cruelty, "how've you been?"

Thirty-six's reaction was both internal and instantaneous. Illness and terror and hate roared up, overpowered his collective knowledge, any calm he had, so that he brimmed with nothing but cold, useless emotion. His teeth clattered from the earthquake fear. There was nothing more he wanted than to run. But movement would attract attention, and he'd rooted to the spot anyway. Orochimaru waited for Thirty-six's answer. Thirty-six didn't remember how to speak, thought of nothing but standing as still as possible. _Be stone. Be stone be stone be stone be stone…_

Orochimaru continued, casually. "You've been a busy, busy boy. Helping Naruto control the Nine-Tails, tracking me down, and of course, trying to convert my favorite toy, Uchiha Sasuke," he said. He moved forward- -not a step, never a step, but a glide- -closer so that they were inches apart. Thirty-six was entrapped in yellow eyes, noticing by a margin the youthful, white skin, the thick black hair, and couldn't flinch when the pink tongue curved out to caress his face, leaving behind a sticky trail of saliva to cool in the air. "But that's not all. I hear you've been training a lovely new Leaf by the name of Yamanaka Ino. Ring any bells?"

Thirty-six reached deep, searching for anything to give him strength, something to tell him what to do. And the Will of Fire leapt up and scorched away the cold emotion, warmed his shivering body, defrosted his capacity to think; however much the Will of Fire conquered, fear and horror and the screams of fifty-nine children had diminished the usually strong flame. If he fought, he would die. He didn't have the strength or clarity to take on Orochimaru.

"What about her?" he asked, quietly. He remembered that echoing voices were voices that carried down halls.

Orochimaru hissed a laugh. "I'd like to know more. I don't think I've really studied the Yamanaka clan and their jutsu. They didn't seem important until now."

Oh-God-oh-God-oh-God he fucking _knew _about the baby_._ "She's nothing special."

"Is that so. If she's nothing special," Orochimaru said, "then why are you trying so hard to find her?" Thirty-six had no answer for the question, and Orochimaru continued in his silence. "See, I think she _is _very special. I think that you and she are composing a brand-new, powerful jutsu, and I should love to see how it's possible. I should _love _to see my favorite lab mouse at play."

"I won't… I won't find her for you."

When Orochimaru cradled Thirty-six's face in cold, lifeless hands, the world went hazy. The sky, look at the sky and be free, look how far the sky extended, how magnificent and eternal it was. He hadn't thought of those words in years. _Ino, where are you?_ He felt chilled lips press against his own, and the soft voice that hissed s's said, "Yes. You will."

Thirty-six's vision lurched into darkness. A moment later, he regained consciousness choking on liquid.

"Swallow. It'll help."

He swallowed, felt two bitter pills catch in his throat, and opened his eyes. Light seared his brain, overwhelmed any thoughts with skull-splitting pain, and he clamped his eyes shut. He panted, shuddered, sweated. Heat, uncomfortable and heavy, kept him weighted to the ground where he lay. _Be stone. Stone does not feel or fear or shake._ His own inner voices were too loud so he thought of nothing.

After a while, the constant static of sickening pain lessened to low, steady throbs. The sunlight was too bright and too hot; he needed dark, he needed cool, he needed _safe._ He heard rustling to his side and opened one eye a sliver. Kakashi sat next to him, reading a book. A new sensation bubbled up inside Yamato, one that he never thought he would feel for Kakashi, one that clenched his heart and sickened him more than the migraine.

Betrayal.

Weary, depleted of energy, Yamato rolled to his side, and once again, his flak jacket had been used as a pillow. He couldn't stay with Kakashi, but where would he go? Wherever Ino was. _That _was where he would go. She was the single person who mattered anymore. The single person who knew and understood him and loved him even with the shadow and darkness he harbored. He was in the middle of an attempt to shift weight to his knees when Kakashi spoke from behind him.

"Going somewhere?" he asked.

Yamato ignored him, intent on getting to his feet. Everything spun out of control; the dizziness was worse than before. Kakashi sighed and approached to help, but Yamato broke gravity and was upright as Kakashi reached out a hand. Yamato smacked away Kakashi's hand, settling to glare cold daggers and hurting himself worse on the sad-shape of that grey eye he'd fallen for years and years ago.

"I don't need your help," Yamato said. His heart was tangled and writhing and leaping to escape his ribs. "Stay away."

"You do need my help. You're sick, Tenzou, and you should be in the hospital." Kakashi again reached out a hand, but Yamato tensed, so he stopped. "If you want to help Ino, you have to be at full health."

"Don't you dare speak of Ino."

Kakashi shrugged. "You're right to be upset. I'm sorry I used the Sharingan on you, but I had to know what was going on in your head."

"You're _sorry_?" Yamato's teeth ground together, but he was in too much anguish to care. "You wanted to know what was in my head? _That's _your excuse for shoving Orochimaru in my face? I loved you," and his heart suffered for it, broke and shattered like a house of glass, and his words at last burst through the dam, "I loved you and gave you everything I had, and why didn't you accept _me_? I'm alive, _here,_ with you, and I've never broken our promise. And you're _sorry_?" He had to pause a moment to gather more strength for standing and feeling and thinking. Everything was a goddamned mess. "You know, Hatake, that wasn't a very efficient use of your Sharingan. Next time, put a Chidori through my chest and end my misery."

"Stop. You don't have to forgive me, but you have to be treated." Kakashi used his commander voice. "We're going."

So that's how it was, was it? Yamato splays his heart on the table, and Kakashi doesn't even blink. _You had it coming_, whispered a voice, _you knew he'd never love you back._ "No."

"I'll subdue you if I have to."

"You fucking owe me," Yamato said, losing his cool, "for all these years that I've never questioned you, that I've followed you into bed and battle and dying and self-hate. I can't be Obito or Rin for you, and you can't fix me by forcing me to go to the hospital."

A long, long pause quieted the clearing. Time enough for Yamato to fully grasp that he had never really _known _Kakashi, and the decade plus some years were wasted on obtaining from Kakashi what Kakashi never had in the first place. Maybe that wasn't accurate, though. Maybe he'd loved Rin and Obito and when they died, whatever love Kakashi held spilled out and had never been refilled. _Yamato_ had never been able to replenish the love Kakashi had missing. He never would be able to. And what weakened him was that he'd spent so much time _trying._

"What do you want?" asked Kakashi, finally. "What is it that I owe you?"

"Hand over the pills you've been using on me." When Kakashi complied, Yamato snatched them and shoved the small packets into his pocket. "Don't follow me and don't try to find me. I want my privacy."

"Wait, you need to know what those pills are, and what about your flak jacket?"

Yamato sneered. "One pill's a sedative and the other's for the pain. I'm not an idiot. And I don't care about the damn flak jacket."

With that, Yamato hobbled- -on account of his stiffened knees and ankles - -from Kakashi and did not glance over his shoulder. He was leaving Kakashi behind.

* * *

**A/N:** Whew. So, some more drama and loads of emotional upheaval. Let me know what you think. =) Next chapter, _Reality Check_, will be out Mar. 31st. See you then!


	29. Reality Check

**A/N: ** Welcome again, dear readers and lurkers. I hope you've so far enjoyed the story. Prepare for another epic chapter. =)

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**Chapter Twenty-nine: Reality Check**

* * *

He'd left behind Kakashi.

The promise binding them together that had lasted for so many damn years, that had survived thick and thin, blood and guts, war and peace, had at last been severed. His feeling at the moment was quite unidentifiable, what with the haze of physical pain behind his forehead and at the base of his skull, and the twist of emotional pain in the underbelly of his heart.

He was a caged bird outside his cage- -he didn't know what to do with himself, so he slowly limped along through the stifling heat of Konoha. Where he was going he had yet to decide. Somewhere that was private, where he could think and decide and get out of the heat. He glanced up as he rested in the shade of a building because the dizziness scrambled his vision, and saw the emblem for the Hokage Tower.

How perfect. The ANBU locker room and hideaways- -single bed, bare minimum bedrooms- -were both located there. He'd be anonymous and have his privacy. Getting there took longer than he anticipated with his pain and stiffness dragging him like dead weights, but he managed to slip into a private side entrance and climb (or haul himself up hand over fist) the stairs to the level which housed the ANBU hideaways and locker room.

Forgoing a shower and instead choosing enclosed, cold darkness, he entered a hideaway, clicked over the lock to show occupation and without even bothering to remove his boots, face-planted onto the clean and sharply tucked bed. He was asleep even before he registered the comfort of the pillow and mattress under his drained body.

Five minutes or five hours passed, he couldn't be sure, but somehow, the feel of hands kneading his shoulders and back reached wherever he'd fallen to in his unconsciousness. His brain told him the hands were female, then helpfully reminded him his room had been locked so the woman had broken in. But, his brain said, the massage felt _good_. Seriously, ridiculously, unworldly good. Like melted butter on a hot plate good.

A groan escaped him when her fingers worked a difficult knot between his shoulder blades and when he inhaled, he inhaled flower perfume. The honed reaction bred of a thousand-plus missions snapped through him, and in a second's span, he'd flipped the woman onto the bed, pinned her wrist over her head and aligned a kunai against the delicate skin of her throat. She did not struggle against him.

He assessed her by the fading sunlight leaking from the blinds. She was good, coming to him in Ino's skin; her hair and dress and measurements and _smell_ were spot-on. Adrenaline spiked through him, he'd forgotten pain and exhaustion, and he panted with quick-draw anger for this kunoichi that had stolen Ino's appearance. _His _sacred Ino.

He dug the kunai into her skin and drew a thin, beaded line of blood. "Drop the transformation jutsu."

"I can't."

"Bullshit. Drop it now or I kill you," he said, biting the words off between clenched teeth.

"I can't," she repeated. Her calm unnerved him. "If you let up on the kunai, I can explain."

"You'll explain anyway."

"Not until you let up on the kunai."

He lost patience. "Don't _fuck _with me. Drop the goddamn jutsu and tell me who the hell you are."

She was silent, but her gaze was steady and he had time to track her soft breathing and notice that she wore silver bangles on the wrist clamped under his hand and that her other hand had settled on his nape, where the heat of her palm undid his efforts to be a cold killer. Plus the low-cut, sleeveless top that showed perfect cleavage and a skirt that didn't reach her pretty knees. This was all very Ino. But it's _not _Ino, he thought, because _his _Ino was somewhere he couldn't reach and was pregnant. This Ino was not pregnant, but her image, coupled with her presence, was powerful enough that he couldn't keep up pretenses and he stupidly eased the pressure on the kunai at her neck.

Disconcerted, he backed away to the opposite side of the tiny room because whoever this kunoichi was, she could've killed him while he slept. She wanted him alive for a reason, and if he wanted to know what her reason was, he'd have to play along. Ino, or the kunoichi portraying Ino, sat up on the bedside and gleaned a thumb across the bleeding scratch on her neck.

"No one is fucking with you except _you_," she said, at last. "I'm Ino, but not the _real_ Ino. I'm a part of Ino she left behind inside you that you subconsciously implanted into a wood clone and transformed."

He had to work to understand. "You…you're…_me_? _My _wood clone jutsu?"

"Yes, but I'm also a piece of Ino." Her hand tapped her head and the bracelets tinkled musically. "Your subconscious released the jutsu when you broke up with Kakashi."

"Is this…I mean, is this…?"

"Normal?" She laughed. "Not really, no. But you're having a difficult time coping. Ino didn't want you ruining yourself, so she performed a little mind technique on you in case you needed some extra support."

"Ruining myself?" He sounded like a moron, but if Ino- -or whatever this was- -didn't spoon-feed him the information, he'd be lost. "What does that mean?"

She stood to approach him. The perfume drowned him. Tension crackled the air. "Look at you. Exhausted, starving, dehydrated, heartsick, in pain…_horny_."

Her fingers ghosted under his jaw. God, yes. She'd flipped his switch. Primal heat flared in every one of his nerves. As uncontrollable greed for her burned a path through him, he attacked her mouth with his teeth and tongue. He had a single thought, a single drive, which was to get inside Ino as fast as possible. His hands tore at her skirt, and when he couldn't get her panties down, he shoved her to the bed and shucked them off her, easily, because she was barefoot.

There was no slowing. His whole body was alight with blue flame. His shaking fingers couldn't figure out his fly, and merciful Ino unfastened it and helped to unleash his rigid cock, even with him devouring her neck and earlobe, and as soon as the necessary parts were liberated, he spread Ino's pale thighs wide and sank into wet, constricted oblivion. No time to spare for breathing or thinking, as he dipped his hips, rocking them, colliding with her, and couldn't see past the lightning that streaked his vision.

Oh, fuck yes, she was hot and snug and so, so slick and too easy to bone and his business would be concluded in record time. He grunted over her coos, coaxing forth a tornado of sheer, unfiltered ecstasy. Never had he been so greedy with Kakashi. Never so insane. He grabbed a fist full of her glowing hair to plant his nose into. Her _scent_ drove him mad. A fissure of release spread through him, he flew towards that point of climax, and when Ino's short nails scratched up his sides, he was fucking _there_, riding a delicious wave as hard and long as he possibly could.

The zenith of release did not last as long as he'd wanted, but of course, it never did. When he came down, relief was waiting for him, relief from pain and the majority of stress he hadn't even known he'd felt. Ino's fingers stroked through his hair. He'd rested his forehead under her chin, keeping her pinned underneath him, and he let out a deep, satisfied sigh.

"Well, now that we got _that _out of the way," Ino joked, "perhaps we can solve some of your other problems."

"That was a pretty big problem solved already. Maybe we shouldn't push it."

She laughed. "Don't forget that I'm a placeholder. I'm not the real Ino, who is waiting for you. You don't have much time left before the birth of your firstborn."

"Then where did she go?" With her mention of the impending birth, panic took flight in his chest. "You can at least make it easy for me."

"I can't tell you that," she said. "I know only what _you_ know."

"Which is nothing." He pushed off and rolled away as his eyes stung. Briefly, he struggled with the sensation before controlling it. "I don't know what to do."

Her hand passed under his shirt to his skin, but the skin-to-skin contact was intermittent, unsatisfying. "Shower, eat, and screw me again. Then we can talk about what to do."

He stopped her hand so he could scrunch up his shirt to show her his skin. Self-consciousness kept him facing the wall as he asked, "What's this growing on me?"

Without seeing it, he knew she examined the dark stone that plated his skin. "Hm, I see."

"Ino?"

"It's psychosomatic."

He prompted her when she didn't elaborate. "_Meaning?_"

"Meaning that your emotional stress has physically manifested as a stone-like substance on your skin, like a rash or a nervous twitch in other people. Just a guess, but, I think the trauma you repressed as a child has resulted in the nightmares you've been experiencing." She paused and pulled down his shirt. "These nightmares cause you stress, so until you resolve the trauma that's triggering the nightmares, this stuff will stay on you to allow your mind an outlet."

Twisting to face her, he said, "How the hell am I supposed 'resolve the trauma'?"

"There's no magic button you can press." She propped her head on her hand. Her face was lovely in the half-light from the window and unfazed with his sarcastic tone. "You have to confront your memories and find acceptance with them. From what I've seen, your coping mechanism has been to retreat from people who could help you, so it's not surprising your condition has worsened over the course of time."

"I don't retreat," he said, defensively. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach, and the topic of conversation made him profoundly uncomfortable. "A shower does sound good. Will you wait here?"

"Don't blame yourself when there was nothing you could do."

He stared at her. Inexplicably a knot had tied in his throat, and his insides shrank. He felt like a rabbit under a wolf's stare, frozen and hesitant to move; damned if he did, damned if he didn't. The walls of the room crowded in, suffocating, as Ino held him with her eyes. His skin crawled when he thought he heard a soft rustling, but she interrupted the rising fear when she leaned forward and kissed him.

"Go take your shower. I'll scrounge up food," she said, swinging her legs over the bedside and sliding her panties up her legs. "I'll see you in twenty."

She unlocked the door and was gone when it shut behind her. He released a shaky breath. She'd push him more if she could, he knew, and it was a matter of time before he couldn't evade her prodding. Then what would he do? Could he dispel her? She _was_ a transformation jutsu layered on a cloning jutsu, but his heart skipped a beat at the thought.

Better to worry about these matters later. Rallying together strength, he got up from the bed and stiffly hobbled to the ANBU locker room, where he stood under a scalding spray of water for ten minutes to let the heat seep to his tense muscles and bones. Clean clothes were in his locker, but no flak jacket or hatsuburi, and by the time he dressed and returned to the hideaway, Ino had beaten him back. She sat, prim and collected, on a chair next to a small bedside table on which she'd placed a tray of food.

"Feel better?" she asked as he sat on the bed. "You certainly look better."

He hadn't thought he'd be hungry, but with the food set out so appealingly, he dug in. "Thanks," he said, after a few minutes of silent chewing, "for being here. And, out of curiosity, how long are you staying?"

"You're thinking of dispelling me, which you can." She told him this with a neutral mildness. "But I'm here as long as you want or until you run out of chakra. _Or _I can dispel myself, if need be."

"So aside from the mind technique Ino used on me, what else has she done that I don't know about?" He sipped from the glass of water provided on the tray. "Knowing Ino's tendencies, I'm sure there's more."

The Ino across from him paused. "Understand this. You are a very precious treasure, one that requires unique protection and care. Whatever she has done"- -her blue eyes hovered on a point over his shoulder, distant- -"was for that particular reason."

"Because of my kekkei genkai." He knew that he should feel used and outraged, but his soldier's reasoning agreed with the Third's decision to perpetuate the bloodline. Wood Release was essential to the protection of Konoha; he couldn't deny the significance or necessity of his technique.

"No, not because of your bloodline limit." Her eyes returned to his. "That was an excuse written to validate a young girl's selfish desire."

He set down the glass and considered her answer for a moment. "I don't understand. What selfish desire?"

"I'm you and you're me. You already have an idea of what it could be. You have the answer, you only need to see it."

But he couldn't think of what the answer was, and he felt as though he was letting down Ino for his inability to _get _what she attempted to tell him. "I don't know."

She smiled. "You'll find the answer soon. For now, we should discuss your current dilemma. Where is Ino and how do you get there?"

"Right. I don't know of any other clues." Not any were obvious. "The list of midwives should be in at the hospital, but even if I narrow her location to several dozen or so towns, how will I convince Lady Hokage to allow me the autonomy to leave and search?"

"You know, you could always resign." She continued in his stunned silence, "With your resignation, you would have the option of leaving the village as a civilian. Lady Hokage did it, as well as Jiraiya, when they left for other pursuits. In fact, you know Sarutobi Asuma resigned and was for a decade a member of the elite Twelve Guardians before returning to the Hidden Leaf."

That was true. But Yamato had lived his whole life with the assumption that his skills were best used in defense of Konoha, and the possibility that he _wouldn't _be defending his village, his home, seemed counter-intuitive. "Once I resign, then what? I wander around until I stumble on Ino's location?"

"Just…have some faith. I'll collect the midwife list from the hospital. You get the resignation papers from the Office, and we'll reconvene here."

He shook his head. "No. The map is at the house, and it's a more controlled environment, anyway."

"Sure."

Their conversation stalled. He wanted her closer, so he bridged the open space between them to touch a long ribbon of blonde hair. "Come here," he said.

Ino stood, and when she sat beside him on the bed, he flopped over on his side, tugging her down too. Their faces were close enough that he noticed how thickly her lashes framed her eyes, how the tendons flexed under the skin of her throat, how her lips curved and shaped. When he skimmed a finger along the smooth side of her face, she closed her eyes as though memorizing his touch. His heart swelled.

"Ino," he whispered, "why didn't you say goodbye to me as yourself?"

Her pause was brief. "Telling me the truth would've been harder for you if I'd stayed me," she whispered back. Her hand brought his to her mouth, where she kissed his fingers. "It was better for both of us that I used Kakashi's appearance."

That was Ino, through and through, presumptuous and correct in all her assumptions. "How is it possible for you to know me so well?"

Her eyes opened. "You are a young girl's selfish desire."

"That doesn't mean anything to me," he said, a bit frustrated with her non-answers. "What selfish desire?"

"We should get going." Ino pushed up from the bed. "The sooner we compile the list's information with the locations already on the map, the better." He wanted her to explain, to tell him everything, but Ino molded another henge and in a quiet poof of air, became a mirror image of him. "Ready?"

He pursed his lips in discontent, but stood in front of his clone. "Ready."

They left the hideaway and parted ways in separate directions. Yamato felt a lingering dullness in his head…leftover migraine pain, he thought, and his limbs weren't coordinating very well under the confinement of his psychosomatic stone layer. The Office was a few floors below, so Yamato descended the stairs as quickly as he dared and entered the floor. All was muted workspace, clean lines and cool efficiency. The directory pointed him in the direction of the Forms Officer, who handed him the resignation forms without fuss.

A few cubicles to the side allotted privacy and pens, and following Ino's advice of 'sooner is better', he sat to fill in the form. A few questions were thorny, and on one asking his reasons for his resignation, he ended up writing 'Conflict of interests' with some delicate explanations. He'd signed it and had folded it up to slide into an envelope, when information merged into his consciousness.

His clone had been dispelled…it had memorized the names and locations- -less than a dozen- -and had been apprehended by…Kakashi and, dammit, none other than Papa Bear, Inoichi himself. What the hell were they doing? A hot burst of anger plumed in Yamato's chest, and the headache returned like a boiling thunderstorm behind his eyes. Something was afoot, and the information transferred from the clone gave no indication of what it could be. If Kakashi was attempting to stop Yamato from a rash course of action, Yamato's single recourse would be to complete his rashness before Kakashi could intervene.

He'd have to turn in his resignation to Lady Hokage _now._

He shoved the envelope into his pouch to free up his hands. Automatically, his fingers formed the seals to shape and mold his chakra to allow him to assimilate into the wood infrastructure of the Hokage Tower. But his chakra would not rise forth from the deep-seated veins inside him. Shit. He didn't have time for this. Yamato scrambled to the appropriate floor as fast as he could, which wasn't fast at all much to his frustration, and outside Lady Hokage's office he bumped into Shizune, who startled and laughed nervously.

"Oh! Commander Yamato. How are you?" she asked. Her big dark eyes had widened. "Well, I hope."

His smile felt forced. "I'm fine. I was wondering if I could see Lady Hokage about a personal matter?"

She tilted her head. "Are you sure? You look"- -he watched as she groped for an appropriate word- -"a bit disheveled. You don't even have on your hatsuburi."

Shizune was right, but whether or not he was disheveled made no difference. "I'm sure. I must speak with her immediately."

"I'm sorry, but she's in a meeting right now." Her hands tugged at the wide sleeves of her shirt. Then her hands twisted the material. "You'll have to come back later."

Yamato's paranoia screeched that Shizune definitely seemed flustered. "Are you lying to me, Shizune?" Direct, but he didn't have the time for subtlety.

Her mouth opened and then clamped shut as proof that yes, she was lying to him. Sweet Shizune lying to _him_? Of all people, he expected a lie from Shizune the _least._ Annoyed, exasperated, Yamato brushed past her to the ornate wooden doors of Lady Hokage's office.

"Wait!" Shizune grabbed his arm, and with surprising strength, hauled him back at the same time she put her positioned her body to block the doors. "You can't barge in!"

He crouched defensively out of arm's reach; she was cleverer than Sakura with the use of medical jutsu. "Out of my way. You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't of extreme importance."

Her face showed her conflicting emotions, but duty won out. "No. I can't let you go in."

Yamato remained silent as he and Shizune stared each other down. He wanted to force her from the doors, but didn't want to escalate the situation. They were both finished with verbal repartee. Physical force was the logical next step, as much as he hesitated to use it against someone as talented and as close to the Hokage as she was. A beep interrupted the tense air.

"Shizune!" Lady Hokage's voice punctured the static from the intercom beside the door. "Shizune, is Yamato out there?"

Shizune, staring at him as if expecting him to retaliate, extended her arm and pressed a button on the intercom face. "Yes, milady. He's here."

"Send him in."

Yamato waited for Shizune to step to the side before he went to the large doors, and after unlatching them, pushed them wide open. The hinges were well-oiled, so even if the doors were heavy, they opened with firm pressure. Natural light from the windows had him squinting and blinking rapidly. Lady Hokage sat at her desk with her chin in her hand, and to the right stood Inoichi and Kakashi both. They seemed out of breath.

Yamato did not like the dread that clustered coldly in his stomach.

"Yamato," Lady Hokage said with a hard edge to her voice, "we've been expecting you. Get in here and close the doors."

* * *

**A/N:** As commanding as usual, Lady Hokage is truly The Boss. What will she have to say to poor Yamato? The next chapter, _Resistance is Futile_, will be out on Apr. 7th! Until then. =)


	30. Resistance is Futile

**A/N:** Welcome back, everyone! I hope you enjoy. =)

* * *

**Chapter Thirty: Resistance is Futile**

* * *

Under three sets of keen eyes, a cold sweat broke out down Yamato's back, and his saliva evaporated.

He hesitated as he glanced from Inoichi to Kakashi to Lady Hokage. Kakashi and Inoichi were concerned, and Lady Hokage, annoyed. He couldn't avoid a lingering gaze on Inoichi because he and Ino looked _so much _alike that Yamato was calmed a little with him being there. Before his hesitation extended into another moment, Yamato shut the doors and approached Lady Hokage, halting a foot or two in front of her desk.

"Soldier, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Lady Hokage snapped, the irritation richening her voice.

Nerves jangled with wariness. How much did she know? He stalled. "Milady?"

Annoyance became evident anger. "Don't play stupid with _me._ I told you Ino's mission and condition were _classified_." She stood and her wrath crackled the air. "And you have the _gall _to break into the Hokage's Vault, and _not only_ did you look at materials that were _eyes-only_, you proceeded to compile information on Ino's whereabouts! What is your malfunction, soldier?"

At this, his heart took a nasty twist in his chest and he looked across at Kakashi, who'd betrayed him again, this time feeding Lady Hokage information on Yamato's movements. Kakashi's eye was hooded, seemingly indifferent. Yamato's conclusions earlier proved correct; he didn't know who Kakashi was. His pet migraine growled and tore into his head, an acute pain gnawing from behind his eye. Lady Hokage's silence indicated he should answer.

"I…I was concerned about her, milady," he said. His pulse filled his throat. "I needed to know."

"Is that so. Were you concerned when you terrorized Shinurai Genma?"

"He…could have compromised Ino's mission."

"Not any more than _you _could have. It's practically common knowledge you've trained her for ANBU. _Your house _is a hot-spot for investigation, and," her glare pinned him, "you keep a _map _with her known locations and a scroll with all her possessions. Are you _trying _to get her killed?"

Sudden, weighted pressure landed on his shoulders. His knees felt weakened. "No, milady."

Her mouth moved, but he didn't hear her words. Everything had fallen deathly silent, and as Yamato thought his hearing had gone, a soft click of a door opening to the side interrupted the quiet. When Yamato looked, fear swung a wrecking ball through him.

Orochimaru. Orochimaru glided out of the medical bay into the Hokage's Office. A roaring silence filled Thirty-six's ears when he comprehended Orochimaru's thinly veiled expression of pleasured gratitude, which meant that…

"Thirty-six. You are a clever one," Orochimaru said, lisping gently, "but not clever enough. You see, I have my spies everywhere."

Thirty-six's heart hammered in a maddening cacophony when the room became a writhing tangle of white snakes; dozens of them dropping from the ceiling with disgusting plops, on the floor, slithering over his feet, draping over Orochimaru's shoulders. _Be stone be stone be stone be stone be stone- -_a hiss coupled with a tickling in his ear drew his attention to the heavy (felt like a thousand pounds, oh God, he couldn't stand it) snake curled up his arm and around his neck.

Shivering panic and terror scattered any reasonable thought except _be stone be stone be stone_. Anything, he'd promise, do, say anything to make Orochimaru leave and take the snakes, the hundreds of hissing snakes, _away_.

"Your feeble attempt at escape failed. Now I have to punish you," Orochimaru said and Thirty-six hadn't seen him come closer. With silken fingertips, Orochimaru brushed Thirty-six's face and startled him. "You do know how I love punishing you most of all. And luckily, I have a special guest today."

"_ComMANder!_" The loud shout blinked out Orochimaru and the roomful of snakes. Lady Hokage had planted her hands on the desktop, leaning forward in earnest. Yamato struggled to control his shaking limbs. "You better goddamn pay attention to me when I'm reaming you out!"

"Yes, milady," he whispered. His vision crawled with spots; the migraine was too painful to comprehend, and the office spun around and occasionally wobbled. Kakashi and Lady Hokage distorted, first shrinking and widening then elongating and thinning. He was missing something, but he couldn't remember what it was. "I'm sorry."

"Yes, you _will _be. You've faithfully served the Hidden Leaf for your entire life. Your record's so clean it squeaks and your mission completion rate is ninety-eight percent. _No other soldier _can boast that kind of completion rate." When she shook her head, her disappointment cut him through. "And yet, I find myself in a dilemma that I've never considered happening with you, Yamato. Should your punishment be exile from Konoha or your goddamn _execution?_"

Her hands slammed into the desk; an inkpot, a sake jar and a couple cups, and several knickknacks jumped and tipped over. The vehemency of her action bolted through him, and he tensed in case he needed to evade any violence directed at him. His shaking had diminished, but tremors vibrated under his surface.

"_Why _was it worth execution to you?"

He had no answer, no explanation that would make any difference. It was worth execution simply because he knew Orochimaru, what Orochimaru _did,_ and he knew he would not accept that fate for Ino and their baby if he could manage it.

He settled on saying, "Milady, I can't be satisfied doing nothing. And if I am out there, with her, then I'm doing _something._" The words sounded choked and broken.

"This is in response to your experiences with Orochimaru," she said, calming some. "You've trained Ino and you know what she is capable of. Trust that she can disappear and not be found."

"I can't afford to take that risk"- -such _insolence!_- -"because I know what Orochimaru can do, milady, and no matter how good Ino is, _he _will be better."

Her glare cowed him and he shrank from her anger. "Don't you presume to tell _me _of Orochimaru's capabilities." She paused a moment. Yamato waited and fought to remain standing still and attentive. The agony from his migraine was a collective force stonewalling his comprehension. "She's in blackout mode anyway. Do you have _any_ idea of where she is?"

"Yes, milady. I've narrowed down her location to a few possible towns. I'll search for her town by town if I have to."

She scowled. "Hmph. Your dedication is admirable, but ludicrous. That might take you months to pinpoint her exact location, even if I give-"

A movement jerked Yamato's attention to a snake gliding across the floorboards, its body an undulating S. Okay, don't lose your shit, he thought. It's just one snake. You can deal with a single snake. He inhaled and exhaled as discreetly as he could as he tracked the snake in his peripheral vision, but the migraine tore at his mind, howling and fierce as shivers shingled up and down his spine.

"…let you go." Lady Hokage's shoulders drooped and she nodded at Kakashi. "Subdue him."

No. _No._ Kakashi advanced as panic screamed and flailed inside Yamato. He heard the snake hiss from somewhere at his feet, but he didn't look. He had to do something, anything. What? What could he do? Desperation generated chakra and an escape.

His fingers molded signs, so rapidly he didn't know what they were until his chakra surged from sleeping venues, powerful and singing. Kakashi and Lady Hokage glanced around, the floorboards rattling and shaking underneath their feet. The sheer amount of chakra frightened Yamato even as he held the jutsu ready for release. From wherever it'd retreated to, Yamato's logic and reason shook its head. Already, regret told him he should've kept quiet and compliant because Yamato had called upon his body-destruction jutsu. No turning back now.

"Commander." Lady Hokage's eyes held lethal intent. The snake he'd lost track of curled up around her arm. "Just what are you doing?"

A rising tide of revulsion wavered his concentration, but he clenched his teeth to steady it. "I'm sorry, milady. Give me permission to go to her or I go without it."

There was a moment's pause. Then her face contorted into rage.

"YOU HAD YOUR CHOICE!" Lady Hokage thundered. She pounded her fist into the desk; it exploded into splinters and wood shards, in essence, mulch. "_You chose to let her go,_ and you _dare _to threaten _me _with a suicide jutsu?"

His vision darkened as she stepped forward, but didn't fail him because he watched in sickened horror as the snake reared its head and lunged between Lady Hokage's lips, wiggling its way down her throat so quickly that the tail disappeared before she even moved her hands to her throat. Horrified, Yamato's control over shunting the chakra into the jutsu loosened and he lost it completely when Lady Hokage choked, clutching her neck, convulsing as she collapsed to her knees. White fingers pried her mouth part, opening her jaw, spreading and forcing until the bones crunched, and a head with glossy black hair and yellow eyes overshadowed with purple appeared as Orochimaru hauled himself out of her mouth, muffling her screams and gurgles.

Orochimaru arranged his hair and robes before gesturing at Lady Hokage. Instantly a giant white snake struck and swallowed her whole, even before she could scream again. The giant snake disappeared into shadows, leaving Orochimaru alone in front of Thirty-six. A few seconds had passed.

_Be stone be stone be stone be stone be stone…_

"Now," Orochimaru said with a sly smile, "where was I? Ah, yes. Our special guest."

From the darkened shadows (sunlight never reached here, this hole, this hell) shuffled forward a figure and Thirty-six's gorge rose, breath dissipating from his lungs as a fist squeezed him, and his teeth chattered from the shaking. His Ino, his beautiful Ino, his sun, sky, _heart _with pale hair and forever-eyes and her womb full of life, his salvation, his heaven and earth, came forth.

This wasn't right. Ino came _after_, not before, she shouldn't be underground in the dank dark in the same place as Orochimaru and anything left that resisted or fought crumbled to dust. A nightmare, he was in a nightmare, it would end but would it? He couldn't tell anymore, couldn't think or breathe, and the fear ruled him with a cold, iron fist. That fear was his brutal reality.

But Ino, smart, brave, knowing Ino, looked him straight in the eyes and said, "I believe in you," and meant it.

He shook his head, something harsh and brittle like ice spreading in his chest, and she didn't understand what was going to happen, and he was sorry, so sorry, so sorry that he'd fucked up that he hadn't done better, hadn't been _more _than a weak sick useless stupid child. Two quick pops- -Orochimaru's jaw widening to accommodate the regurgitation of a katana, and Thirty-six's sight sharpened, clarified, as though he'd been squinting through fog his whole life, as Orochimaru drew the blade, and what Thirty-six saw was his own death as surely as he saw Ino in front of him.

Orochimaru held it out. "Take the katana, Thirty-six."

Thirty-six did. His hand was surprisingly steady. The leather hilt was damp from spit.

"Are you afraid?"

Thirty-six nodded.

"You shouldn't be. Look at your lover. Does she seem afraid to you?"

Thirty-six looked at his lover. She did not seem afraid. Her face was not pale, she did not shiver or sweat or cry or beg. Her whole aura was of calm assurance, and her mouth bowed in a gentle smile. A hand rested on the shelf of her stomach.

"It's okay," she said. She stepped forward. Her warm fingers and hands cradled his face and she was so close and glorious and strong and he couldn't stop being numb even for the instant that she kissed him oh-so gently. Her un-shuttered eyes told him she knew he couldn't fight against Orochimaru because her (their) death would be quick and painless at Thirty-six's hands. "I don't blame you."

"Wait for me," he said between plastic lips, "wherever you go, wait for me there."

She nodded. "I'll always wait for you." Then she put her back to him and knelt on the floor. She said, "Be thorough."

He understood what she meant.

Thirty-six's detached hand swept her thick pale hair over one shoulder. He settled the point of the katana on her neck, where the spinal cord attached to the brain via the brain stem. One thrust downwards would kill her; a second would follow through her back into the temple of her womb. This would prelude his own deathblow; when she (they) died, he would turn the sword against himself. Orochimaru would not be able to stop him if he was quick enough. Thirty-six would be quick.

"Kill her."

No hesitation as his whole heart imploded, a thousand worlds terminated, a collapse of a universe, when his body obeyed. He screamed as he rammed the katana down as hard as his strength allowed. Blood spurted everywhere, thick, dark fluid splattering the white of Orochimaru's robe, and from afar, he rose and stabbed the blade again, ensuring that evil would not trespass on what was sacred-

Orochimaru's reaction was instantaneous. "NO, you _fool_…."

-but Thirty-six didn't hesitate, didn't think about hesitation as he drew out the blade from her back, inverted it, and with deadly precision, jammed it into his heart-space, crushing through ribcage and the soft muscle tissue. There was no pain, silence only, as he fell forward, and his face on the cool cement was even with Ino's, his precious treasure. Wait for me, he thought, focused on her blank eyes, wait for me, I'm coming to you.

He rushed into darkness, went deep, deeper, deepest. Searching for blue eyes, pale hair.

Death had a pungent ammonia smell that burned the surface of his brain.

"Open your eyes," someone (a man) said. "You're conscious."

Eyes opened, vision blurred then clarified. Constant, needling pain in all parts of his head. And sound, soft sound, from everywhere and nowhere, like voices talking to Yamato (who was he, really?) but too low. A white ceiling cast with light. Inoichi on his knees, long ponytail hung over his shoulder, a stripe of light brown over green flak-jacket that if Yamato squinted, he could trick his eyes into seeing Ino's hair.

He shouldn't have tried to think of her. Her name, the idea of her, muddled up what coherency he had, and he closed his eyes because fuck this, he was tired and sick of everything and was holding himself together by some miracle, barely. A viscous emotion coated the inside of his chest, his lungs, his heart, crawling over those organs. Push it back. Push.

"Commander." Cloth rustled. A hand came between Yamato's head and the floor, strong fingers and palm cradling the weight of an anguished brain housed in a skull brimming with memories and quiet murmurs. "Look at me."

All he wanted was to be left the hell alone, so he said, "No."

Another few seconds as the talking-noise continued, but when Yamato's mind circuitry sparked alive, the snap of thoughts connecting, the spread of a familiar stinging forward from the base of his brain, he blinked awake. Inoichi had his fingers up in front of his nose and mouth and his eyes were closed in concentration. Already the mind-link surged through the middle of Yamato's head, and he tried to generate some measure of caring, but too much of him didn't give a good goddamn.

Yamato waited as Inoichi completed the link. The menthol sensation on his grey matter ceased, so too did the murmurs and the dogging migraine. There was nothing in his head. Yamato, startled, thought of nothing, had nothing to say even as Inoichi lowered his arm and opened his eyes.

_That should make you less grouchy_, Inoichi thought. His smile was wry. _All that activity going on in your head was annoying._

And then Yamato had a distinct impression of the Third from Inoichi. Not that Inoichi was thinking of the Third or forcing a memory, but that Inoichi's presence inside Yamato was too similar to the Third's magnanimous, fatherly presence. It _hurt,_ that thickness of emotion clotting up his throat and engulfing his heart and lungs, but not as much as when Yamato caught a whiff of pipe tobacco and smoke and a flash of the Third's benign, proud smile.

Whatever had been holding Yamato together cracked, shattered, fell scattered across the floor, unsalvageable, and he couldn't breathe even as hot, prickling pressure seared behind his eyes. Tears burned a track down his cheeks, and the grief, from so far deep in his soul, so locked and neglected that it had compounded and became formidable, seized him. For _years_ he'd held that grief at bay, and for years he'd punished himself with it.

And didn't he deserve it?

Where had he been when Orochimaru invaded Konoha and stole the Third from his beloved village? Who else had attempted escape again and again and had failed each time, thereby incurring the death sentence upon innocent children? Who else had survived when fifty-nine others thrashed and screamed in the midst of their death-throes?

Didn't he deserve the blame, to wear the guilt like a brand on his heart?

_No, you do not deserve this grief,_ came the answer. _You are not to blame for the deaths of those other children, and you are not to blame for the Third's death. They all died fighting Orochimaru's evil. They did not want you to feel guilty._

The answer gave him absolution, but he hadn't earned it because it wasn't _Ino_. Only when she granted him absolution would he accept it, and he did not think he was worthy to ask of it from her because what had he done? He'd flinched away at her offering, at her fucking _love,_ and had carried on as though it had meant nothing. His sin against her was the vilest imaginable. He was scum, lower than scum, he was _unworthy._

A fresh wave of wracking tears ended his inner diatribe. Sometime, somehow, Inoichi had gotten Yamato sitting up and had enclosed him in a tight bear-hug. That show of sympathy, of caring, broke apart Yamato's conclusions regarding Inoichi's motives. All remaining walls crumbled; the crying was a release valve that should have been cranked long ago. He'd preached to precious, lovely Ino that he'd been heartless and because of it, he'd been a better soldier.

But Ino had proved to him he did have a heart.

When his heart had become hers, he didn't know. There was not one, single occasion that came to mind, but a string of events. Or perhaps she'd stolen his heart from him with a sleight of hand trick, slipping it out from steeled defenses and had somehow convinced it to pick her over Kakashi even when he'd thought Kakashi was the best choice. She'd even gotten Kakashi on her side, gotten his oldest, closest friend to step away and give her a chance at it. How'd she done it?

_You're too tired to care._

Yamato agreed. Little by little the crying eased. Sobs snagged in his chest and his sinuses were stuffed, so he still couldn't breathe. He felt hollowed, raw. His eyes burned- -he couldn't see. Lips tasted of salt. Now Inoichi was what was held Yamato together, but Inoichi shifted back and propped up Yamato with one arm as he fished in a pocket for a vial of clear liquid.

_Here, drink this,_ Inoichi thought._ I know you have an aversion to needles, so this is a stronger, oral sedative. It'll knock you out for a good twelve hours, and you won't have any nightmares._

Twelve hours of solid rest? Too much to hope for. Inoichi flicked the stopper and put the vial to Yamato's mouth. The fluid tasted like mint, cooling as it flowed into his stomach. Even as Yamato felt the sedative pool and spread inside, the lights dimmed in the office and as they faded, he curled fingers into Inoichi's flak-jacket.

_Don't put me into the hospital, _he thought to Inoichi, _or the medical bay either._

_Where would you like to be put?_

Yamato couldn't form a distinguishable language in his mind- -the words were clay and too malleable- -but he had a distinct place in his head, a moderate-sized chamber with wood paneling and a personal library spanning a wall, portraits of all the Hokages lining another, with a rich, red and gold rug in the center and plenty of seating available. Yamato's favorite seat had been the bay window overlooking downtown Konoha, and leaning against the wall, he was able to watch over the citizens he protected as the Third roamed the floor in his long Hokage's robes, smoking that slim pipe and conversing in quiet tones.

The heat from the sun baked his skin, was so soothing, and the sky cloud-free and eternal that Yamato had a strong sense of déjà vu. Had he been dozing? He shook his head to clear the cobwebs and sharpened his attention to Lord Hokage, who smiled, lips pressed on the mouthpiece of the pipe.

"Enjoy your catnap, dear boy?" he asked. Amusement twinkled in his eyes, and Yamato felt a surge of protectiveness for Lord Hokage.

"I didn't realize I'd been dozing, milord." Yamato glanced out of the window to the street and the throng of people. Konoha's heart pulsed with the Will of Fire. "It's busy down there."

"There's no need to be afraid."

The comment was out of the blue, and Yamato looked back to Lord Hokage. Where there had been amusement was now an unreadable expression. He waited for Lord Hokage to elaborate, but when the silence extended, he sat upright. Something unidentifiable was brewing.

"Milord? I don't understand," he said.

Lord Hokage held the pipe in his hand, puffed smoke out of his nose. "There's no need to be afraid of love."

A heavy slab of stone moved aside, grating, in a shadowed corner of Yamato's heart. As Yamato opened his mouth to question Lord Hokage, someone shook his shoulder and the dream flicked out of existence to become endless dark.

* * *

**A/N:** To tell you the truth, I cried when I wrote this chapter, right around the part where Yamato sees the Third in Inoichi. *sigh* Anyway, the next chapter, _Change of Heart_, will be published Apr. 14th. Until then!


	31. Change of Heart

**A/N:** Welcome back, lurkers and readers. Please, enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-one: Change of Heart**

* * *

Inoichi stood at Yamato's shoulder, a hand-span's warmth there. _Do you feel better?_

Yamato blinked, rubbed at the grit in his eyes, and squinted in the bright sunlight flooding the Hokage's Resting Chambers. Without constant pain, he felt knit together, like all the flying emotions had been reined in and harnessed into formation. Except…except his heart had expanded to expel the shadowy, empty pits of his chest. That ember he'd felt at the bottom of his heart so many times before had been stoked into a furious, consuming bonfire that would never burn down.

He knew three things at that moment more clearly than he'd ever known anything in his life.

One, he loved Ino. Two, he was going after her, and three, when he got to her, he was never leaving her side. Whatever obstacles he had to overcome, he'd scale them, any trial or tribulations he'd be put to, he'd survive. Nothing would come between him getting to her. Nothing would separate him from her when he got to her. He felt a determination he'd never experienced before, a steel hardness in him that refused to fail. The Will of Fire empowered him.

To Inoichi, he thought, _I feel better than I've felt in a long time._ _I don't even have a headache._

_That's due to the mind-link we're sharing, _Inoichi responded. _Your nerves had gotten used to Ino's technique and when she left, your brain interpreted it as there being something wrong. The symptoms wouldn't have been as…debilitating had you not been under stress for two months._

That made sense. The mind-link was essentially chakra poured straight into the brain, so there had always been the possibility of rewiring. Ino had warned him of it, and he considered it an acceptable risk. _How long was I out?_

_Eighteen hours, _replied Inoichi. _Lady Hokage thought you should get as much rest as possible before sentencing you._

Yamato pushed himself into sitting. _She's still pretty pissed, hunh?_

_She's upset, yes, but more because you changed your mind _after_ Ino offered you a chance to stay with her and that you had refused._ Inoichi continued with a slight smile, _Lady Hokage thought you shouldn't have been given the choice in the first place._

_It was because I had the choice that proves Ino wasn't using me to complete mission objectives,_ Yamato concluded. He rubbed his burning eyeballs. _My being forced into going with her would've undone all her work to show her love._

_That is true._

_Inoichi…do you know why?_ Yamato looked up at Ino's father, finding blue-green eyes intent on him. _Why me?_

Inoichi hesitated, turning to move across the chamber to a side table that offered a water pitcher and glasses. He poured a glass of water and came back to the couch to hand it to Yamato. _That is not for me to tell,_ Inoichi answered and sat on the opposite side of the couch.

Yamato stared at the glass in his hand. The cut reflected rainbows into the water. Inoichi had comforted him yesterday at his worst, had brought him to the Hokage's Resting Chambers, was being understanding and sympathetic more than Yamato deserved. All for what? Did Inoichi bide his time to destroy Yamato when the opportunity seemed best? Was Inoichi harboring ill-will under the seemingly benign mental vibe that radiated from him?

Yamato, full of questions and doubts, glanced across to Inoichi. _Do you hate me?_

_I do not hate you. _Inoichi's thought was given without hesitation and was serious in tone. _I love my daughter and she loves you, so, by extension, I find I must love you as well. I would not dare risk Ino's wrath by allowing you to be swallowed by despair or falter on your path._

_But…before…you seemed so angry._ Yamato remembered in colorful detail Inoichi's ripe anger that had charged the atmosphere, bursting the apartment at the seams and the consequent fight between him and Ino before her collapse. _I thought for sure you would kill me, or at least, avoid helping me._

Inoichi laughed in his throat- -a male version of Ino's laugh. _I didn't agree with Ino up until the last possible moment. Ino has a way of deciding for others what they may not decide for themselves and being aggravatingly right every time. I found that out before she left._

_It wouldn't be Ino if she didn't, _Yamato said, pleased that her tricks included her own father. He sipped the water, discovered how parched he was, and drank deeply. _She didn't tell you where she was headed by any chance?_

_No. She played it close to the vest on orders from Lady Hokage. What worries me is _how _Orochimaru knew about her_. Inoichi's face darkened with anxiety. _Everything was hush-hush about her pregnancy and her objectives._ _Does this mean there is a leak in Konoha? Someone who's a spy for Orochimaru?_

The thought sickened Yamato. _If that's the case, I need to find her as quickly as possible. Pregnancy prevents the usage of large quantities of chakra, and she'll need a guardian to compensate. I wish I knew exactly where she was._ Restless, he stood, body stiff and dysfunctional, and traveled at a slow, halting pace to the water pitcher. He poured another glass of water, then turned to hobble back.

On the wall beside the table were a few paintings. One of them, a larger painting, had been commissioned by the Third Hokage. Yamato remembered well the day the Third had hung the painting up and had shown it off proudly. _A Boy and His Stars _was its title, and the dark blue bordering on black accentuated the sprawl of constellations set like diamonds in the sky. A darkened figure on a pier sat, head tilted up, feet dangling over the reflective water, with high cliffs barely discernable in the background. A house with glowing yellow lights in the windows could be seen to the boy's back. The painting displayed a poignant constellation, the Cat's Tail, which could be fully viewed from one single point on the globe. The Third had spoken of the painter, but the name escaped Yamato's mind.

Out of curiosity, his eyes dropped to the right corner. An elegant white flower adorned the bottom as a signature. From nerveless fingers, the glass fell to the floor, shattering and splashing water on the wood, wall, and Yamato's feet. Hana- -_flower_. He remembered, now, the name the Third had told him. What concerned him wasn't that he remembered the artist's name, but the signature itself. How was that possible? That flower was _Ino's exact signature._ A rush of blood from his head dizzied him and another memory surfaced, an addition to the one he'd had.

_Nobody looks at the backs of paintings nowadays, _the Third had said, with a glint in his eye. _It's a shame, really. The real treasure is always on the back. One day, dear boy, I'll show you the back of this painting._

Breathless, his heart in his throat, Yamato reached up and grabbed the sides of the painting's frame to unhook it from the wall. As Yamato balanced the painting, Inoichi came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"What're you doing?" Inoichi asked. "Why're you taking down the painting?"

"Help me with this." The painting was heavier than Yamato had anticipated. "Bring it to the couch, but place it with the back facing out. I'll show you in a moment."

Crunching over the glass, Inoichi grabbed the frame and with their combined effort, both men maneuvered _A Boy and His Stars _to place it on the floor in front of the couch with the back outwards. Yamato stood away a few steps. There on the white canvas were characters that flowed and chased each other, building up and piling over to form a seal in the shape of a tree. Another message in a string of them: _A Boy and His Stars_- -Tenzou, meaning heavenly body; Hana/Flower- -Yamanaka Ino, who worked at a flower shop; the Cat's Tail- -Yamato's summoned animal, and also, he hoped, the place where Ino had hidden. Inoichi stood apart, and when Yamato looked at him, he nodded in encouragement.

Yamato placed his hand on the seal, his chakra hesitant to charge, but after a moment, the release of raw power passed through his skin to the canvas. The seal broke with a _poof_, then the smoke rapidly disappeared to show a thick sketchbook under his hand. He moved his hand; his palm had covered a few lines in the front-center of the sketchbook.

_Name: Yamanaka Ino_

_Age: 6!_

Intrigued, his mind and heart- -his soul- -focused on Ino's sketchbook, Yamato sat on the floor and opened it. On the first page was a young girl's smiling face labeled _Me At 6._ Vague wisps of memory stirred, but Yamato didn't contemplate them, seeing such talent. Ino's artistic ability at that age was clearly at a professional level. So _A Boy and His Stars _was indeed hers. He continued to flip the pages, fascinated, attracted. She'd been prolific and observant. Several of the pages contained mini-comics of small, harmless pranks she'd pulled on unsuspecting populace. There was a section dedicated to Sakura as a child: Sakura hugging her knees and crying; Sakura smiling; Sakura with a bow topping her head; Sakura twirling in a pretty dress; Sakura and Ino holding hands and waving.

He neared the middle of the book and came to a sketch that put him on pause. A fourteen year-old boy with dark eyes and dark hair and an old-fashioned hatsuburi sat at a wide, broad table. He cradled his chin in his hand. Open chairs and space surrounded him, but on the table within arm's reach was a stack of books. A plate of memory slid into place. Now Yamato remembered. The Third had revealed himself to be a closet astronomer, and Yamato, eager to be close to his beloved savior, had immediately gone to the Konoha Library to read up on astronomy. This drawing was from that day.

The library had been full of students, and he'd had to search for an area that wasn't tainted by others. Back then, he'd had a shyness that bordered on painful, and avoiding people was necessary for him to feel safe enough to relax. Eventually he'd come to an empty spot, except for a slim girl with a huge sketchbook seated in an armchair back away from the table in a nook. Her hair had been a platinum blonde cap, and when she'd looked up from her drawing, she'd caught him staring at her as he'd waffled between leaving for an entirely secluded section or settling for a seat there with the one girl's presence.

The big blue eyes had mesmerized him, startled him with their vivacity, and he had known he should avert his gaze but couldn't, and he remembered how he felt as though she'd invaded him with just that look. Then she'd smiled, a child's smile, and returned her attention to her sketchbook, thereby freeing him from the accruing anxiousness. He had stood rooted to the spot, half wanting to run off and half wanting to get to the books under his arm before angrily telling himself that she was six years old and _not _a threat to a two-year veteran of the ANBU.

So he'd taken a seat at the table and began reading the first book on the stack, oblivious to Ino seated on the other side of the area and to her apparent interest in him. He flipped through a few more pages and came to a sketch of him speaking with Kakashi, who'd shown up later that day. Kakashi's stance- -a slight lean forward into Yamato's space- -and eye were drawn in a manner that showed how accustomed to each other they'd become.

Another sketch, a comic, chronicled his near indestructible concentration on his book- -Ino had drawn him seated, eyes glued to the page, as two shinobi sword-fought on the table in front of him. Then as some sexy ladies crouched and slunk around him, their eyes narrow behind fans and one reaching to ruffle his hair. Then as vines curled up and around his legs and body, moss spreading on the side of his face, grass growing tall and unruly at his feet, and the deteriorated table collapsed from old age.

He'd never realized how wonderfully brilliant Ino was. Page after page after page brimmed with sketches and drawings of him, but the one on the last page of the sketchbook was the one that clenched his heart. She'd drawn him from over his shoulder as he slept, his cheek on the book, his mouth relaxed; he looked so _young_, and something told him that her care and love had poured out of her into the drawing because he could tell how much time had been spent getting the angles and curves of his face perfect. His arm rested on the table, fingers loose, and she'd drawn between them an origami flower. That he remembered also…he'd fallen asleep and had woken up with the mysterious paper flower in his hand, having forgotten about the girl after the long afternoon of studying the heavenly bodies.

It had been a coincidence. A _damn coincidence _had changed the course of his life. He felt vertigo, dizziness from the sheer height of the situation that he toed. A clot had grown in his throat when, in his mind's eye, he _saw _Ino, all of her years of planning and working and drive. Everything Ino had said or done clarified, having been out of focus for so long. She made sense to him, now.

And to think he'd been arrogant enough to try and put boundaries on her love; he'd created a nice, neat, ten foot by ten foot room of it. To be comfortable. To know what to expect. The sketchbook disintegrated the comfort, the expectation, because when he attempted to step into her love with belief that it had boundaries, he found no walls, no ceiling…it was infinite.

Even in his hallucinations, her defying love had pierced through, rupturing a pipeline of fear that had run through him since as long as he could remember, and that fear had drained out to the last drop when he'd taken the blade against her and then himself. Nothing could not stop him from destroying what he loved most to snatch away the opportunity from Orochimaru. He could face his nightmare, his terror, with her love threaded in his soul. Orochimaru held no power there anymore.

Yamato had forgotten about Inoichi until movement broke his attention from the sketchbook. He looked at Inoichi, who patiently sat on the armrest of the couch. _Did you know about this?_ Yamato asked, gesturing with the sketchbook. _Did you have any idea?_

_Yes. I knew about the sketchbook, but I thought it was a childish obsession that she would grow out of. I never dreamed she'd be so dedicated to you._ Inoichi paused a moment. _I should've realized when she conferred with the Third about you and managed to get him on her side._

The smile that curved Yamato's lips couldn't be helped. _I meant about her talent as an artist. _

Inoichi laughed, out loud. _One of Ino's many secrets. Hana has been a title and a trade passed down for generations in the Yamanaka clan. She received it from her aunt…though, the explanation is technical and out of place at a time like this. _Inoichi held out his hand to help Yamato to his feet. _Particularly since I'm afraid it's time for you to see Lady Hokage once more._

"Will I live through this?"

"For the most part, yes." Inoichi blinked. "That's the simplest answer."

His nerves were steady, his heart set. Yamato said, "I'm ready."

Ino's father nodded. "You are. Come with me, then."

Inoichi led Yamato out of the Hokage's Resting Chambers to a flight of stairs that went down to the level of the Hokage's Office. The workday was in full swing, and busy shinobi rushed to and fro with documents and frantic looks on their faces as the paperwork began to pile up. Shizune was standing guard at the Office's doors, and upon their arrival, she spoke to Lady Hokage through the intercom. They were immediately ushered in.

The desk she'd obliterated had been replaced with a regular table. She sat behind it, scowling as he came to stand in front of her, a scroll and pen ready to the side.

"Tenzou. I want you to know that I blame you for the destruction of my last desk," she told him, her tone quite serious.

When she evidently wanted him to apologize, he did. "I'm sorry, milady. Would you like me to make you a new one?"

"Do so," she said. She stood and pushed the table to the side then she waved, impatient. "Get on with it."

Yamato formed the signs with his fingers, the sizzle of chakra in his network alive and refreshing as it pumped through his palms and built under the seals. Creaking, with slight rattling. Then slowly, so as to get the grandeur at the correct level, rose a new, intricately designed desk from the wooden floor of Lady Hokage's office. When he finished the jutsu, Lady Hokage circled the desk, her fingertips running over the smoothened top, as she eyed his work. She pulled her chair over, sat, and scooted in.

"Hm," she said as she leaned forward on the empty desktop, "good work, soldier. I approve." She gazed at him. "You know you're here for your sentence, correct?"

"Yes, milady. I know."

"To execute or exile you would be a waste of a perfectly good weapon." Her eyes flicked over his shoulder to where Inoichi stood then returned. "You'll neither be executed nor exiled outright. However, you must be disciplined for your blatant disregard for Ino's privacy and direct orders from your commanding officer. Do you understand your crimes or do I need to be technical?"

He understood more than she would ever know. "I understand them. There is no need for technicalities, milady."

"Very well." She inhaled and continued, "You are tasked with one more mission, then, as ANBU. You are to locate Yamanaka Ino, protect her from any threat against her life, and when the time comes, you are to safely transport her and her weapon back to the Hidden Leaf. Failure to accomplish these objectives _will _result in your execution if you return in failure. Do you accept?"

"I accept, milady."

Her mouth slanted, but she flattened the impending smirk. "You are to leave immediately. Once you leave this room, you are to follow blackout procedures. Your mission is one that is not documented, so do not expect backup or help should the situation sour. You are dismissed."

Yamato nodded. The moment before he sank into the floorboards to quickly get to the ANBU locker rooms, Inoichi thought to him, _Be swift and sharp as a blade singing through wind. You have my blessing._ Sternly, _Protect Konoha's king._

_I won't fail,_ Yamato replied. He would not. He would die before he failed. Without further hesitation, he used his Wood Release technique to soak through the wooden bones of the Hokage Tower to the locker room where he suited up. From the supply room, he added a few extra weapons and necessities, as he had a feeling he'd be dealing with numerous foes in the upcoming days, and slung a cloak over his shoulders so he could move with even more anonymity.

Once he left the Tower, he knew he had one last stop before he left Konoha. The light was on in the minimalist living room, and Kakashi sat on the couch, hunched over a hot pink book with the light at his side. Even in his own place, Kakashi kept the mask up, but his hitai-ate was off. Yamato tapped the window pane. Kakashi looked up, saw who was there, and nodded once. Yamato hopped his way to the roof of the building to meet Kakashi.

Kakashi arrived shortly after, jumping up over the lip of the roof from the fire escape. "I see you're dressed for battle."

"Yes," Yamato replied. He removed his mask to fully face Kakashi. "I'm leaving Konoha for awhile."

"I thought you would."

Yamato expected Kakashi to continue, but when he didn't, Yamato said, "I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry…for not understanding you enough to know you were helping me. And for sleeping with Ino and not telling you."

"There's no need to be sorry. It was time, anyway."

In the second's pause, Yamato's heart skipped. "What?"

"You've wanted to move forward for a long time now. And I'm…well," Kakashi sighed, "I'm a lonely scarecrow stuck in the middle of a field. I'll stay there forever."

"Kakashi…" Yamato had a bad feeling about Kakashi's intent.

"Listen a minute." Kakashi stepped closer, and Yamato noticed how Kakashi's eye was shaped with plain weariness. "You're a heavenly body…you're a mystery to a scarecrow like me. It was selfish to ask that promise of you because I never imagined someone else would look up and see you and _understand _you. And then…Ino came. She's the one who understands you, and understands you so completely."

"You didn't have to give me up."

"But I did. I had to," Kakashi said. "If I didn't, you would resent and hate me. You need someone to move forward with you, to know who you really are. I've never known who you _really _are."

"Kakashi…yes, you do. You've been with me nearly my entire life. I can't think of anyone else who knows me better."

"You've never told me your true name."

In the silence that followed, a terrible shock erupted through Yamato when he realized Kakashi spoke the truth. Yamato had never given Kakashi that small piece of himself. There was no explanation for it; he just…hadn't. He had nothing to say to that, and Kakashi must've sensed it. He continued, "Ino can do what I can't. She's far better for you than I ever was and ever will be."

Kakashi was being too modest, almost as if he didn't remember he'd spent a decade and a half as Yamato's partner. "In some ways, she is."

"No." Kakashi shook his head. "In _all_ ways. She's giving you a gift- -a miracle, Tenzou. She's giving you a king. I'd never be able to give you something like that. And…that's okay. I want you to leave and come back so I can meet whoever you become."

This didn't seem fair to Yamato. Kakashi had been a loyal comrade and friend for so many years, and here, Yamato was leaving Kakashi behind…for good. Once Yamato left Kakashi, he'd never be able to go back. Between them would be a chasm that would never again be bridged, and the perceived distance from Kakashi saddened him. But Kakashi was correct. Ino had given gifts to Yamato that Kakashi could never and would never give, and Yamato wanted to give equal or greater gifts back to Ino. Kakashi was no longer the sensible choice.

"But…what about you?" Yamato said. "I don't want to leave you alone in your field."

Kakashi chuckled. "I'm a survivor and a believer. You've never had to worry about me."

Then there wasn't anything left here for Yamato. Kakashi was fine with solitude, had forever been even more self-sufficient than Yamato. Their silence stretched out until Yamato closed the physical distance remaining and drew Kakashi into a hug. Yamato closed his eyes to savor Kakashi's heat and closeness one last time. Kakashi hugged back, tightly, enough to untie Yamato's last heartstring connecting them together, before they released each other after a moment.

As Yamato took a few steps back, he lowered the mask onto his face. "Goodbye, Kakashi."

"Goodbye, Tenzou." Then when Yamato had crouched on the edge of the rooftop, Kakashi said, "And Tenzou?" Yamato turned. "Don't hesitate to protect the king."

"I won't."

Yamato gathered chakra to his soles and sprang away towards the walls surrounding Konoha, to the place where the Cat's Tail dipped over the curved horizon of the sea in the deep south of Fire Country, towards where his heart and his king were and to where he belonged.

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**A/N:** Next week, _Epilogue._ See you then!


	32. Epilogue

**A/N:** Welcome, dear readers and lurkers! I'm so pleased you've journeyed with me through this story. I present to you the final installment of "Behind the Cat's Mask". Enjoy. =)

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**Chapter Thirty-two: Epilogue**

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Ino sat on the porch overlooking the southern sea, an expanse of azure and turquoise green meeting the horizon of the afternoon skies in splintered sparkles. Waves crashed and seagulls cawed as they wheeled in the air. Salt and sunshine and fish wafted in the wind.

The house she'd been using as her residence and studio was built on the edge of a cliff, a short way through a forest from a small touristy town that claimed the best view of the Cat's Tail constellation on the entire coast. At her feet, a bulky, rangy dog with a chestnut coat by the name of Poppet sprawled out. He was a mutt, adoring and protective, and her eyes and ears when she needed them.

She was due in a little under a month and a half. Would _he_, her selfish desire, make it in time for the birth? Her rocking chair soothed her impatience and also that of the life growing inside her. Sighing, she rubbed her hand on the crest of her swollen belly. Her confidence in him had not waned. He _would _show up, but what would delay him? And for how long? Lady Hokage had more than likely punished him for not picking her right away. When Ino had begged Lady Hokage to allow her to handle him _her _way, Lady Hokage had scoffed and resisted, but finally relented with a slight glint of vengeance in her brown eyes.

That argument seemed so long ago. So trite in the grand scheme of things. Or, as Dad would say, in the grand scheme of Ino. She chuckled at the accuracy of his accusation. Well, Dad, she thought, I've cast my hand. Here's hoping for the jackpot…the man behind the cat's mask.

After awhile of reminiscing, Ino arose and walked across the porch barefoot, the wood creaking in welcome, and entered the house, stepping to the side to allow Poppet to slip in behind her. She'd transformed the entire back room into her art studio, and her various art supplies, of which she was sure Sai would approve, plus dozens of canvasses were organized and stored here. The room had plenty of natural light coming in from the porch windows and she could gaze out at the ocean if she desired for her inspiration.

Her midwife, Rosa, didn't approve of her working while pregnant because of the fumes from the paint, but Ino painted with nontoxic ingredients. To please Rosa (and lessen the nagging- -_she, _Yamanaka Ino, out-nagged!- -unheard of), she'd cut back on the amount of time she spent in the studio anyway. She moved through the short hallway to the front half of her 'home', the left dedicated to the open kitchen with the quaint dining room table and the right dedicated to an inside sitting room- -where Poppet had curled on the rug in front of the fireplace- -with two small bedrooms to the back right corner with a bathroom between. All of it was rustic and had beach knickknacks in niches. A seaside cottage, Lord Third had told her, the perfect size for a small family, and it was hidden in plain sight.

The Third. She missed him. When she'd been a determined six year-old girl, he'd listened attentively to her explanation, skimmed his fingertips over her drawings, and had smiled at her in agreement. He'd been a wonderful old man, agreeing to her demands that she know _this _boy'sname and how she could wrangle him into her life to be hers forever.

_People aren't pets, young lady, _he'd said with a chuckle. No, she replied, but _this _boy needs someone to care and guard him. He's precious. He's _mine._

_He is _very _precious, the dear boy,_ the Third had said, clamping his teeth on the mouthpiece of his pipe. _How did you know?_

Ino remembered that moment like it happened yesterday. Six year-old Ino had sat up straight and gazed across to the man who protected and ruled the village. Honesty was her best policy, and honestly, when she saw that boy in the library with beautiful dark eyes, she'd known what she had to do. Then she said, _When I look at him, I see what he can become. When we shared a glance, everything opened up inside me._

That statement had held true from the moment Yamato and she had crossed gazes, when they'd reconnected when she was sixteen and again when she'd met him for ANBU training. His dark and soulful eyes opened all her closed doors, and she felt stripped to the bones, to her soul, when he gazed at her. He'd never understood the power he held over her, even try as she might to show him, but she hoped the man he'd become, the man who'd turn up at her doorstep any day now, would.

Her seaside cottage darkened with evening shadows as she fixed up a small dinner, and considered the coolness inherent between the walls. Not coolness, but maybe…a feeling of being without. Of missing his presence, the timbre of his voice. Times like these, she thought, were no times for moping about. And she wasn't alone. She had Junior below her heart. Her dinner was a quiet affair, as was the dishwashing and drying, and she bathed and went to bed, staying up to read a bit to stave off being without. Poppet came back and she allowed him to jump up to occupy the foot of her bed.

A couple layers of blankets warded off the comfortable nighttime cool and Ino quickly succumbed to sleep, but she awoke in the deep heart of the night. Someone had crossed over the telepathic protective border she'd set up as an alarm system. Quietly, she sat upright. Poppet perked his ears. His eyes gleamed in the moonlight streaming from the window. Ino surged chakra into the correct forms and performed Mind-Body Switch, darkness like liquid over her senses, the feeling of flying and perching, and then finally, settling into a new mind.

As Poppet, she hurried through the sepia-toned house, her scent and the scent of the beach pouring over a million buds in her nose. Through the open front door and down a couple steps onto the path that led into the teeming forest she trotted. Night sounds were harsh to Poppet's ears, but familiar, and Ino kept low to the ground and to the shadows as she entered the forest towards the entry point of the intruder. Almost immediately, a scent blared out to her, a shocking smell in the damp, growing vegetation, and Ino used Poppet's night-eyes as she crept forward.

Man. A single one. He was close, coming towards the house in the trees, and he tripped the second alarm system. She froze, watching the boughs through Poppet's eyes, hearing the light _taptap_ that indicated a shinobi's light footfall. A shadow among shadows. She tracked him as he landed on a branch, high up, cloaked, but he turned his face to the house and a glint of mask shone from the moon. A cat's mask.

He'd arrived!

A dog cannot gasp, but Ino did inside Poppet's mind, startled and tremulous with happy surprise.

Caution quibbled that she should check to make sure it really was him and not an enemy in disguise, but in her heart of hearts, she already knew it was her selfish desire. He'd might've known she'd put up a protective barrier around the property but had tripped it purposely. A careful enemy would've seen or felt it, and would've tried to avoid tripping it off.

Ignoring the caution, she released her jutsu, plunged through cold darkness like an arrow into the warmth of her own body. She sat bolt upright and flipped off the covers so she could race through the house to him, but at the last second, she held her excitement in check. No. She would allow him to do this his way. She'd done everything her way since the very beginning…he'd earned the right to approach her how he chose.

Her heart pounded in her chest; Junior kicked as if he, too, overflowed with excitement. Minutes crawled by. Her fingers curled tightly in the covers. What was _keeping _him? Then she heard his tread on the front porch, the springs' quiet creak as he opened the screen door…Poppet's nails across the tile at the entrance. Poppet seemed to understand the measure of the man who entered the house; he was good at sensing harmful intent. She tracked time with the rapid beating of her heart, her jagged breathing, the unbearable need to see him, _touch _him.

Did he cross the living room? No…her ears picked up the faintest of shuffling. Despite her impatience for him to get his ass into the bedroom, she recognized his need to check out the homestead. Patience. _Patience._ She kept her eyes closed as she strained her ears.

Minutes or hours crawled by as she waited, and without warning, a presence flooded the room, flooded _her,_ and the slight rustling of cloth- -the cloak, perhaps- -as he rounded the bed. What would he do? She was dying to find out. Patience, she told herself, be patient.

"Ino?" he whispered. "Ino, wake up."

He touched the side of her face, and she turned her cheek into the warmth of his gloved hand, opening her eyes to see him at last. He'd removed the mask and had unbuttoned the cloak, and she recognized the attempt to soften her awakening. His features were shadowed and darkened, but she didn't need light to know what he looked like.

She smiled, trying for sleepy, but she felt her mouth widen to a grin. "You're late."

"Sorry," he said, amiably, his fingers running under her jaw. She was in the middle of the bed, so he sat on the edge. "I didn't mean to take so long to figure things out."

"You're worth the wait." His proximity had jolted heat through her, and she wondered if he was too weary for what she was thinking of. If he was, too bad. "Say hi to your son."

His hand languidly moved from the crook of her neck, taking a detour around the outside of her breast, to her large belly, fingers spreading and gently pressing through the satin nightgown, and her reaction was a slow burn, a tightening of womanly muscles; he breathed, not quite a sigh but close, and almost right on cue, Junior kicked, a bulls-eye on his father's palm.

"Junior says hello," she said with a chuckle. Her want, her _love_, for him reared up, a sparking rush, and unable to deny it, she pushed herself to sitting. "We missed you."

Her intent was to pull him in for a hello kiss to rev him up a bit. Before she could lean forward, Yamato's free hand found her nape- -the shiver of sex down her spine- -and then his mouth was on hers, hard, demanding, and the kiss was an injection of pure eroticism into her system, something that she'd wanted from him but he'd been unable to give before. He'd always sidestepped her intensity, taking what she gave as a mere glancing blow, but inside this kiss, he pushed her under the flow of his maleness, of his control, and matched her stride for stride.

_This _was the man she'd cultivated and prodded for and hauled unwillingly to the forefront. She groaned when his hands made contact with her bare thighs and hips under her gown, her nerves leaping, heat soaking through her, her nipples hard and sensitive to the fabric that shifted across them, and blindly, she peeled back that annoying cloak and attacked his uniform.

Through the searing kisses he wrought from her, she wrested off the body armor and because she was in a rush to have him _in _her, contented herself with the skin-tight shirt and shoving her hand down his pants to caress his tumescence. She could _smell _him, all sweat and earth and that sensuous male-musk, and he elicited a surprised cry when he skimmed teeth on her throat. In the middle of this, he'd removed her nightgown, and with a low growl- -oh, _yes,_ his voice was sexy- -flipped her to bend her over the bed. Somehow her legs held her and everything matched and there was a brief break in action when one strong hand curved under her, following the dome of her stomach.

And then…smooth connection. Her mind went blank; she could only feel. The man who plunged into her molten core was nothing like the man she'd left behind a few months ago. The man she'd left behind would've hesitated and spoken to her to assure himself that she was willing; _this _man had no such qualms. He accepted the power she'd left in his hands and used it. She didn't need the mind-link to see it happen.

Ino said things, but she wasn't hearing herself, so focused on her filled space and the tempo with which he thrust. So long. _Too _long, she'd been without him. Quick thunder gathered deep inside her, rolling forward so aggressively she barely understood it, and shortly after, she was coming hard_, _the force of it shaking her, wiping clean the without-ness that had carved the ache in her, releasing her from gravity and earth. She finished with tears in her eyes and her arm muscles strained from how she clenched her fingers in the sheets.

Was he, or was he not, a _god_? Yes. Yes, he was.

Both of them panted. A hot hand swept over the field of her back. She resisted the urge to purr and arch into his touch. Her insides positively glowed- -would probably pulse with low, murmuring tides for the next day or so as it had when they'd first 'connected'. He pulled free of her and collapsed on the bed to her side, limbs sprawled out and half-dressed.

Leaning forward, she murmured, "Welcome home," then she kissed him gently, which he accepted. "I'll get your bath drawn. Rest here."

If he disagreed, he didn't indicate it, and Ino wouldn't have listened anyway. She drew her nightgown over her head and her new, voluptuous cleavage- -a pregnancy perk, she considered it- -and went into the bathroom to fill the bathtub with steaming hot water and salts to tame his sore muscles. As she waited for the tub to fill, she helped her man out of the rest of his clothes and his weariness seemed to have overcome him. He sagged against her, allowed her to manipulate his limbs, and accepted all guidance into the bath.

Ino considered him magnificent. She adored the shape of his jaw and chin, the breadth of his shoulders, the tendons and muscles of his neck and chest and arms and back, his strong and hardened stomach, the lean lines of his hips and thighs. Even though love softened his flaws, she noticed his weight-loss. Before she'd left, he'd been slim, but healthily so, with subcutaneous fat dulling the shape of his bones. He'd lost enough that his skin seemed shrink-wrapped to his ribcage and his cheeks had fallen into hollows.

And then there was the slate that had formed over the majority of his physique. Her heart turned in her chest. Hardened grey plating covered solidly his torso, legs, and back. Some of his face, a patch here and there, and his genitals were free and clear of his psychosomatic disorder. He'd suffered the consequences of an upheaval, and she was to blame for it. Her selfishness was to blame.

He sighed as he sank down into the hot water. His eyes closed, two bruised and tired lids meeting purpling bags above his cheeks. Quietly, she poured water over his head and down his back a few times, and then shampooed his hair, using a hand to shield his eyes when she rinsed out the suds. She lathered up a washcloth, running it over his body with care and efficiency bred from medical training. He didn't fight her; he accepted what she gave.

Once he was clean of soap, she molded chakra through her fingers and her clan's signs and cradled his head in the palms of her hands. A soul-opening, was what she named the sensation, the unlocking and shining of light into shadowed cervices and hidden secrets inside her. Her body came alive, different from a physical connection, because she could hear the quiet pitter-patter of his thoughts against the pane of his mind, the slow inhale/exhale of breath from his body, and the sound and pulse of a beating heart. Activating the mind-link had a profound effect on him, as though the connection was a powerful, psychological sedative.

His breathing changed; she recognized a serious release of serotonin into his blood stream, an inadvertent result of her being on the inside of him. And then there was a small _clink._ She sat back to look at him as another _clink _occurred. Then another. And another. It sounded like tiles dropping off the wall into the tub and breaking apart, but as a piece of slate cracked and popped off his shoulder, she understood what was happening. Without delay, tears stung her eyes in hot, dripping streaks down her cheeks.

Quite literally, he was breaking out of his cocoon. He'd irrevocably changed and shed his old self to be with her. He'd picked _her._ Everything she'd dreamed, had wished for, had waited for, had come. After a couple seconds, all the grey stone had chipped from his skin and had piled on the bottom of the tub. A strong hand reached up to wipe away her tears. His eyes were dark and so loving and she loved him so much she wanted to scream to alleviate the push of it.

"Ino," he said, his voice a murmur, "don't fall apart on me."

She laughed at his joke, half-sniffling, as she smoothed the palm of her hand down his chest. "You ready to dry off?"

Together they stood him up, maneuvered him to the toilet seat, and Ino dried him with a huge fluffy towel. She left him a second to grab some pajamas she stocked for him; a pair of flannel pants and a plain white t-shirt. Once he was dressed, into the bed they fell, the darkness shrouding them with the quiet nighttime sounds and thud of the ocean. Both of them rolled toward the middle of the bed, and face-to-face, they linked their fingers together and intertwined their legs. They needed the physical contact; it was natural and unstated.

"I'll make you breakfast tomorrow," she said, unable to help herself from speaking aloud to him. "I can tell you haven't been eating."

His eyes slowly blinked. "Food didn't taste as good without you there to sweeten it up."

The generous compliment, the truth that shone in those words, preyed on her desire to please him. Tears leaked out again. Could she help it if she was overjoyed at having him _with _her, finally?

"Don't cry," he said. He wasn't commanding her, but trying to persuade her. "Please, don't cry."

"I can't help it. I'm so happy you're here."

She felt him breathe. "I know," he replied. "Me, too."

A long pause elapsed, where Ino controlled the tears and decided what to say next. "I'm sorry for putting you through that suffering."

"I deserved it for not noticing your efforts sooner. I resisted too hard." She thought she saw him smile. "I still can't believe you conceived all of this when you were six years old. How did it feel?" he asked, suddenly. "How did it feel knowing and believing and being so sure?"

Ino took care to craft accurate words. "When you looked over at me all those years ago, I felt like a light had turned on inside, a light that only _you _could turn on. I loved the feeling of being full of light, where everything I _was_ was visible. You hooked me that day," she said. "I couldn't stop myself from pursuing you."

"But you were a child. Did you ever question it?"

Within the realm of their connection, she heard the back thought he had. He wanted to know about Chou. She swallowed because that whole part of her life had tracked her heart with wounds. To Yamato, though, she'd be ruthlessly honest.

"I…I did. I let what my father and others said affect me. They were able to turn my blind faith into a sort of…fanaticism, an obsession." She hesitated, but she'd promised herself to tell him everything he wanted to know. "I put how I felt about you to the side and allowed myself to make a regrettable mistake. Breaking Chou's heart was…the whole thing was a stupid waste of emotion. I've never been sorrier and sadder than when I realized I couldn't stop loving you and had to tell that to one of my best friends."

"Are you and Chouji okay now?" Before she could answer, there was a forceful pulse of thought as his brain connected to something. "I must've had you running scared for you to go to Kakashi like you did," he said.

She laughed- -he referred to the whole choke-out episode. When he'd left her behind, she'd tracked down Kakashi for help. "Yeah. I was terrified I'd screwed everything up…like I did with Chouji. I couldn't afford to lose you."

"How'd you guess that I'd see your painting and remember what the Third had said?"

"It was easy to see how you stored every tidbit of information the Third gave you," she replied. "You worshipped the man."

His chuckle was low and acted the rain to her desert-dry heart. "True." Then his turn to the serious overcame her through the mind-link. "And information wasn't the only thing he gave me."

In the dark, he leaned in closer, whispering now, an intimate exchange of words from his mouth to her cheek. The dark waters of his mind stirred, swirling with quiet dignity. "He was the one who gave me a name, gave me _myself._" He was so close to her, his breath was a hot sweep over face. She reveled in it. "You gave me yourself, and so much more. I can't give you much, but I can give you _me._ Do you understand?"

Was he…? God, yes, she understood. The world as she knew it shrank back; she couldn't breathe for the anticipation. His movement rustled the sheets and he positioned his mouth at her ear, his lips brushing and tickling. Ino closed her eyes, savored it, because though he hadn't told her he loved her in words, everything he did spoke of it, and she knew that with what he told her, the secret he'd harbored for years, so entrenched in his heart that _not even Kakashi knew of it,_ was going to be hers, and just hers. The moment felt like forever but it was a second, a second that she would keep to her death and nothing would tear it from her.

He whispered his true name to her.

* * *

**A/N:** And so it ends. I intentionally left a few loose ends dangling, ie: Shikamaru & Chouji, plus the Konoha leak and the danger from Orochimaru's forces. I was thinking that there should be a sequel. Do you agree? Thanks to all those who've read and shared their thoughts and comments! You made writing the story well worth it. =)


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